


Weak When Ur Around

by napenthusiast



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Music, Anal Fingering, Bottom Tsukishima Kei, Bubble Bath, Depression, Drugs, Eating out, Eventual Smut, Exhibitionism, Flirty yamaguchi, Happy Ending, Kuroo and Kei are on good terms tho, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, Music, Past Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei, Sex, Sign Language, Slow Burn, Song Lyrics, Suga is deaf, Top Yamaguchi Tadashi, Tsukishima Kei & Yamaguchi Tadashi Friendship, Tsukishima Kei Being an Asshole, Tsukishima Kei is Bad at Feelings, Tsukishima is a singer, Yamaguchi Tadashi's Freckles, Yamaguchi is a model, Yamaguchi rides a motorcycle, akaashi and bokuto are goals, blackbear music, breakup songs about kuroo, cursing, dark/ deep backstory, i love that thats a tag, kinda???, listen to blackbear when reading this, previous drug dealer tsukishima
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:26:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 28,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23390161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/napenthusiast/pseuds/napenthusiast
Summary: Tsukishima is a famous musician just sighing his way through life.Yamaguchi is a scrunchie wearing klutz and upcoming model.When Tsukishimas manager coerces him into filming a music video for his new song, he meets a freckled model that quickly grows on him more than he ever could have anticipated.AKA: The notorious bad boy Tsukishima meets klutzy model Yamaguchi romance that no one asked for.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, Kuroo Tetsurou & Tsukishima Kei, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi, Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 30
Kudos: 265





	1. the 1

**Author's Note:**

> You'd be the one, the one to ruin everything.  
> Let you win the fights, let you leave me, bye  
> Gonna bite my tongue when I know you're wrong  
> Can't seem to fight the demons  
> And it's sad to see  
> The one you once held on to  
> Pack up and leave.  
> -the 1, blackbear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You'd be the one, the one to ruin everything  
> Let you win the fights, let you leave me, bye  
> Gonna bite my tongue when I know you're wrong  
> Can't seem to fight the demons  
> And it's sad to see  
> The one you once held on to  
> Pack up and leave.
> 
> -the 1, blackbear

Tsukishima is at a party. He lets his gaze slowly move back and forth across the room to take in the throng of flushed bodies pressed up against one another. 

The flashing lights and blaring music are a definite recipe for an impending headache, making him run his hands through his greasy blonde hair and contemplate leaving without telling anyone. It's not like they would notice the lack of his oh so silent presence anyway. 

Despite his obvious distaste for the ambiance of said hellish parties, Tsukishima's attendance is anything but rare. 

A poet would say he's a study in contradictions. Because while he may vehemently hate socialization and large numbers of people, he was rarely _not_ at a party during his precious free time.

But Tsukishima is not a poet, so rather than a study in contradictions, he considers himself a masochist that's terribly fucked in the head.

Unfortunately, tonight's party is much like the rest of the ones he had been to during the better part of the week; loud and excessive.

But on the other hand, there’s lots of booze, plenty of hot guys, and phenomenal drugs. 

Tsukishima is also quite drunk. 

This too is not a particularly rare occurrence. 

If the tall blonde had not ingested copious amounts of alcohol to lessen the drone of music in his ears and blur the blinding lights, he likely would have snapped and caused some innocent partygoer to cry because of his sharp tongue. 

But because making people cry is generally frowned upon at parties, he drinks away his scathing words and lets the liquid warmth inside him burn like fire.

His lanky drunken body is currently reclined lazily on a faded blue couch in someone's basement. There’s a strong stench of weed mixing oddly with the sharp smell of his rapidly depleting vodka.

The golden-eyed man stares at the clear glass in his hand and frowns at the offending liquid rippling inside it. He absently wonders: if he stares at the shiny glass long enough, would he see his reflection glaring back at him? 

He wills the innocent-looking spirit to morph into water so he doesn't have to feel the lingering burn of it down the back of his throat as he sips it pathetically. 

Sadly enough, his glare and drunken willpower doesn’t accomplish any sort of liquid transformation and just makes him seem more pissed at life than usual.

That’s saying something, because, as Kuroo used to tell him all the time, he has a terrific resting bitch face. 

Before he can spiral into an endless stroll down memory lane, he's drawn back into his less than stellar reality by a yell. 

“Hey Tsukishima,” someone barks out in a sultry, yet gravelly tone from behind him.

He turns his head slowly so as to not inflict sharp pain on his already fuzzy brain, and finds himself to be face to face with none other than Bokuto Koutarou, pain in the ass extraordinaire. 

Tsukishima blinks at him twice, feeling as if conjuring up words to speak isn’t worth his time, especially since he’s drunk and the music’s so loud that Bokuto will be unable to hear his low voice anyway. 

“Wanna do lines?” the bicolored haired man asks, eyes glinting as if he had already ingested something to distance himself from this plane of existence. 

Tsukishima considers it for a moment before nodding. He’s drunk enough that he can blame his poor decisions on that, instead of the actual fact that he just wants to feel less chained down to the nothingness in his head. 

While slowly moving his legs to stand up from the couch and making his way to follow Bokuto into a random room nearby, he realizes that the song playing from the loudspeakers is his own.

He sighs as the repetitive notes of his latest single blares around him, registering that the lyrics are droning on about someone leaving him. This is the first time he’s actually hearing it all put together, as he’d left the studio the moment he had recorded his last line. 

Who is the song about?

Tsukishima has no idea—he didn't write the shit, just sang it. 

The lyrics are fitting though, he thinks to himself as he listens to someone else’s words spill from his mouth. His bored sounding voice is barely decipherable above the excessive bass thrumming through the house, but he remembers singing this part into the microphone at the recording studio. 

_Am I happy, am I for it?_

_Wanna find a cliff and floor it_

_You left me laid out on the floor_

_I didn't know_

He smiles drunkenly to himself at the words once he finally makes it into the room and to a low coffee table at which Bokuto had unceremoniously plopped himself down onto, next to a silent, glazed-eyed Akaashi. 

Akaashi looks up at Tsukishima from where he’s cutting lines on a mirror. The black-haired man stares at the blonde when he moves to sit down and place his cup of vodka on the table, but he grins halfheartedly at the way Tsukishima deliberately places it directly on the table, right next to a coaster that someone had put down so that the expensive mahogany wouldn't be damaged.

Tsukishima doesn’t know whose house he was at, let alone whose table he was defiling, but he likes watching the droplets of perspiration on his cup roll onto the dark surface, so he disregards the fucking coaster and shoots a deadpan look back at Akaashi, trying to convey the fact that he doesn’t care with just a simple blink of his eyes. 

Akaashi blinks back, his smile twitching at the corners before redirecting his eyes back to his boyfriend. Bokuto, unaware of the current furniture destruction, finishes up dividing the coke into thin, well-practiced lines with a razor blade that look like its previous whereabouts are questionable, but Tsuikishima is too done with life to point it out. 

“This is your new song,” the raven-haired boy states, pulling Tsukishima back to his presence, voice strong and lacking any slur despite being thoroughly high—the only tell being his blown-out pupils that can’t focus on anything. 

Tsukishima just nods in response, feeling as if his quota of talking should be kept as close to zero as possible tonight. 

“It's good!” Bokuto exclaims, looking up at Tsukishima with wide eyes and a toothy smile, momentarily distracted from the fine powder on the table. 

“Hm, it is. But he didn't write it,” Akaashi says before leaning over the mirror and cleanly inhaling a line of white powder. When he comes up, he lets his head fall back against Bokuto's broad chest to bask in the euphoria that is to come.

Letting his eyes roll back as he breathes deeply, Akaashi continues, “Tsukishima hasn't loved anyone enough to write a song about them leaving. He always leaves them first.” 

Tsukishima just runs his tongue over his teeth and lets out a short ‘tsk’. 

He doesn’t let himself contemplate the raven-haired man's words before he bows over the mirror and takes a long inhale, letting the burn in his nose distract him from Akaashi’s sharp, but very true, words.

Fuck Akaashi with his smart tongue and pretty face. The man is too smart for his own good. 

Even high off his ass, he can tell that Tsukishima couldn't have written a song about a lost lover. 

He’s right, of course, and that disgruntles Tsukishima's already sloshed mind even more. 

Sure, love isn't his thing—probably never will be—but sex is. 

He has lots of sex. Songs about fucking people and abusing drugs is what he usually sings about, so Akaashi noticing that the lovesick and heartbreaking lines of this new song aren’t his isn’t particularly perceptive. 

But still, he’s drunk and high, so he lets himself spiral into a whirlwind of thoughts.

Love is definitely not what makes him text guys at unfathomable times of the night to come over, knowing that they’d agree. 

The way Akaashi brought it up was not meant to be malicious. If anything, it was just a well-calculated observation. 

That's partly why Tsukishima actually enjoys being around Akaashi, even if he’s typically paired with a loud owl haired man. 

Akaashi is intelligent and doesn’t waste his time with flattery and bullshit L.A. politics. 

But tonight is not a night where Tsukishima wants to think about his abysmal love life. 

Actually, he doesn’t even want to think about any aspect of his life in general. 

So, he does another line in quick succession to his first. The couple next to him watches intently as if they’re witnessing a deadly train wreck but can’t manage to tear their eyes away. 

If they want a fucking train wreck, Tsukishima is the right person to look at. 

~~~~

The rest of the night is a blur, as is to be expected. 

Tsukishima vaguely remembers finding his way back to the lumpy and uncomfortable blue couch he was perched upon earlier, but then he was joined by a cute guy with blond hair and a tongue piercing that glinted off his wicked eyes, so the uncomfortableness of the couch was quickly forgotten.

Tsukishima is mildly embarrassed by the fact that he recalls saying something along the lines of, ‘I want to know what your tongue stud feels like on my dick,’ to the dude. But to be fair, he was excessively inebriated and also high off his ass. 

Sure enough, his terrible pickup line worked because the guy, whose name Tsukishima already forgot, is slinking out of his bed the next afternoon while Tsukishima's eyes blink open and his brain mercilessly berates him for having windows that let in (god forbid) sunlight. 

The man with the tongue piercing and gold hair grins as he sees, and hears, the taller blond stretch his back and groan in his bed. 

“Thanks for the good time last night, cowboy. See ya never.” 

Tsikishima untangles his hand from the bedsheets and flips the guy off in response. 

As he wiggles himself into black jeans that he picked up from the floor, Tsukishima let images of hands running down the shorter man’s toned back, leaving angry red marks from his black-painted nails, flicker through his head.

He contemplates asking ‘tongue stud’, as Tsukishima had deemed him, if he’s interested in another round of quality fucking, but decides against it as his head continues to throb incessantly. 

The standing blond slips on his shirt and leaves the room with a chuckle, sticking out his tongue at Tsukishima before closing the door behind him, as if he knows how much the piercing simultaneously pisses him off and turns him on. 

It is then, while he is berating himself about his stupid piercing kink, that his phone decides to blare with an obnoxiously loud ringtone that should be illegal when someone is so hungover. 

But alas, it rang nonetheless. 

He knocks over spare vodka bottles and medications as he gropes around his nightstand for his phone before finding it, almost punching himself in the face with how aggressively he brings it to his ear.

“What,” he says, not in the mood for dickhead prank calls or his publicist telling him that the paparazzi had leaked compromising pictures. 

“Well, that's not a very nice way to greet someone who just gained you a million bucks.”

“Oh. How amazing Daichi, you won the lottery. Can I go back to sleep now?”

“NO, you dipshit! I just got you a music video deal and you need to get your ass to the recording studio so we can go over the paperwork.” 

Fuck that. Tsukishima doesn’t want to do a music video for a song he didn't even write. 

He tells his manager this much, not wasting his breath to sugar-coat his distaste. 

“Too bad,” Daichi responds to his sorry excuse for whining in that dad voice that made Tsukishima obnoxiously aware of the two more years Daichi has on this earth than him, “You're coming or I'll send Suga to drag your ass here.” 

“Fine. I'm coming, but I'm not signing anything yet.”

“Got it mister ‘I need to see the numbers, do the math, and actually read the rules and regulations.’ But this is a good opportunity, and I think it will be fun.”

Tsukishima just hangs up, almost smiling to himself at the sigh he knows Daichi will emit due to his rudeness, and the affronted face Suga will make at his childlike actions.

~~~~

He arrives at the recording studio an hour later, fueled by coffee and sort-of-not-really refreshed by a lukewarm shower. At least he doesn’t smell like booze anymore. He can't handle Daichi and Suga ganging up on him and playing ‘good cop, bad cop’ for another intervention. 

“TSUKISHIMAAAAAA!” Is the first thing that his sensitive, hungover ears hear as he walks through the lobby towards the meeting room where Daichi had said to meet him. 

He slowly turns his head to see a fireball hurtling toward him with exceptional speed. 

God bless. An excruciatingly painful, fiery death would be welcomed in turn of having to film a music video. 

Wait. That’s actually Hinata sprinting toward him with Kageyama following dutifully, although at a more acceptable pace, with his guitar slung across his back. 

Dammit. Now he _really_ wishes that he was being incinerated by a fireball.

Hinata stops just seconds before pummeling Tsukishima with his short body and smiles up at his tall form brightly. 

“HI! ME AND KAGEYAMA ARE WRITING A SONG. IT'S GOING TO BE SO GOOD!!!”

“HINATA DUMBASS! DON’T YELL,” Kageyama yells out himself as he shifts his glare back and forth between Tsukishima and Hinata. “Anyways, it’s not like four-eyes here even cares.” 

“Don't call me that. And first of all, its Kageyama and I, not 'me and Kageyama,” Tsukishima sneers at the annoying musical prodigy duo, “and secondly, maybe I would care, in another universe, but in this one, I’m hungover and you’re loud as fuck so... Bye.” 

With that, he turns his back to the pair as Hinata lets out an unflattering raspberry noise of dejection and finally makes his way to the meeting room. 

As the door silently slides open, Tsukishima is greeted with Suga straddling Daichi and sucking face as if his life depended on it, Daichi’s hands pulling at the ashy blond hair like he’s making sure it isn’t a wig. 

“Hi,” Tsukishima states bluntly as he plops down in a chair across from the almost-porno occurring before him. 

Suga nearly topples off his partner with surprise at Daichi’s jolt of fear and a rapidly rising blush that paints his face. 

“Um. You didn't see that,” Daichi says, as the pair attempt to untangle themselves from one another. 

Daichi tries (and fails), to regain his composure while Suga just has a smirk on his faux innocent looking face.

“See what? My manager making out with my media specialist in a conference room with the door unlocked for anyone to come in? Oh, no. I saw _nothing_.” 

Daichi, with his hands finally free, begins to sign as he talks, “Fuck off. Anyway, Suga and I agree-”

“I can see that,” Tsukishima signs back snarkily.

“Fuck off times two,” Daichi glares at him, “Suga and I agree that this music video would be great for you and that you have to do it.” 

“But-”

Suga cuts Tsukishima off by signing, ‘No buts, you’re doing this. You need to get out of whatever funk you're in.’

Tsukishima opens his mouth to talk and sign back violently, “I'm not in a funk, and the song isn’t even one of my best. The music video will be stupid.” 

Suga just smiles his annoying ‘mother knows best’ smile and continues singing, ‘Okay, you’re not in a funk. You’re just really fucking depressed. And you're right, you have better songs, but this is a single and you should do this music video because, unless you're secretly hiding an album from us, you're not working on anything right now.’

Tsukishima closes his mouth and drops his hands to his sides instead of trying to make a poorly formed retort.

Everything Suga had just signed was true. 

Daichi smiles apathetically, “So it's settled then, a music video? I have the papers in my bag right here,” he says as he pats the unassuming briefcase at his side. 

“Let me look over the contract.” 

He won't give in too easily to his friends/colleagues. He has a douchebag reputation to maintain, even if they both know that he has a soft side for dinosaurs and strawberries. 

The freshly printed papers and a crappy pen from a pizza place slide across the table to Tsukishima.

Twenty minutes later, with the entire contract read over, his lazy signature is looped onto the last page in black ink that was running out, making his signed name look terrible and desolate, not unlike how Tsukishima feels about his fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note to self: updated 2/15/21


	2. Sometimes I Want 2 Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes I wanna die  
> I don't care if it's sad  
> I want to die  
> Take all my money out the ATM  
> And start a little bonfire  
> Let it burn, let it burn
> 
> -Sometimes I want 2 Die, blackbear

Tsukishima slowly wakes up to his monotonous alarm, fading in and out of consciousness as he shakes away the last remnants of his mundane dream about keeping dinosaurs as house pets.

He finds himself to be mildly hungover, recalling that he did go out last night to some random club near his apartment. But being hungover is practically his constant state of being, so he shakes it off easily and actually feels quite good on the morning of his first day of music video shooting. 

He silently shuffles through his apartment, humming old rock songs to himself as he takes his meds with water. 

Tsukishima considers it to be a small victory that the clear liquid on his kitchen counter isn’t vodka before slinking back to his room in order to slip into something other than sleepwear. Although extremely comfortable, he feels like his dinosaur flannel pajama pants and lack of a shirt would be deemed indecent by society. 

He forgoes trying to dress nicely, opting for clean sweats and a light sweater because Suga had mentioned something about the design team having outfits at the studio for the video. 

A small smile finds its way onto his face as he shoves on his worn-out bubblegum pink vans that Bokuto had gotten him as a joke. Tsukishima only wears them out of spite, and NOT because he actually likes them. 

Once his obnoxiously glaring pink shoes are tied up, he grabs the keys to his Chevy Silverado and heads to his single car garage to hop in his truck. 

Thankfully, the drive to the huge warehouse where the video will be recorded isn’t far. It’s actually only a few blocks away from Karasuno's Music recording studio, making Tsukishima mentally check off another one of the many perks presented to him by living in L.A. 

The truck's engine rumbles along with violent drumbeats as he rolls into a parking spot with his music blaring some old Ramones song from a playlist he hasn't listened to in ages. 

Tsukishima sits parked in his truck for a solid two minutes, letting the loud drums reverberate around his body as he tries to work up the will to go inside. Maybe if he just leaves and says that he had forgotten about the music video, everything will be canceled and he can go back home to sleep off the remnants of his hangover. 

But Suga will kill him, and while his life is definitely shitty, death by Suga is not his ideal way to go. 

He shuts off the ignition with a sigh and slides out of the car, slouching as he makes himself move toward the section of the huge warehouse where he knows his team will be waiting for him.

As he walks through the huge building, his phone keeps buzzing with texts from Daichi. He ignores them, knowing that all they contain are reminders that he signed a contract and has to come, not to mention threats of siccing an angry Suga on him if he bails now. 

Tsukishima just sighs again and tries to make his long legs walk a little bit faster. 

~~~~

“Jesus Christ, finally!”

“I thought you were an atheist, Daichi,” mutters a confused looking Bokuto. 

Tsukishima sighs and opens his mouth to reply, “He is. It’s a fuckin figure of speech.” Then, because he’s genuinely confused by the black and silver-haired man’s presence, he adds, “why are you here?” 

“Hey, rude!” Bokuto sputters out, “I’m here because Akaashi’s gonna be in your video! And I wanna meet Yamaguchi!”

Tsukishima just blinks, trying to recall if he's ever heard of that name before. “Who?”

“Uhhh, the model you're gonna bang in your video--”

“That's enough!” Daichi yells, cutting off Bokuto before he can inform Tsukishima of any more terrible news.

“I’m sorry,” he spits out icily, his mind already formulating plans to fling himself off the scaffolding that lingers above them, “but I think Bokuto just said something along the lines of, ‘the model you're going to bang in your video,’ and unless that’s code for, ‘there's a strawberry shortcake in your dressing room,’ I'm leaving.”

His cold stare does nothing to deter Bokuto's smile that grows on his face as his gorgeous boyfriend saunters over toward them, catching the last part of Tsukishima's sentence.

“Why did no one tell me that there’s strawberry shortcake?”Akaashi questions coyly as he plants himself next to the three of them, sliding his hand around Bokuto's back and looking knowingly at Tsukishima. 

“There isn't,” Dachi sputters as he brings a hand to massage the bridge of his nose, “and Tsukishima, you can’t leave, you signed a contract.” 

“I didn’t sign anything that said I was going to fuck a model,” he spits out, really wishing that he had just ripped that stack of papers to shreds. 

Dachi sighs for probably the millionth time that day. “First of all, you’re not actually gonna fuck him. It’s a video, it’s all about _angles_. Secondly, you signed a contract that said the video could present you in ‘compromising situations’ and ‘scenarios that require viewer discretion.’” 

Tsukishima winces, recalling scanning over that section of the contract without a second thought. “I assumed that that was about drugs and drinking.”

“Oh, there’ll definitely be that too.” 

For fuck’s sake. Tsukishima needs a drink. 

Sadly, he feels as if starting his daily alcohol consumption at eleven in the morning would be a little low, even for him.

Instead of high-tailing it out of the warehouse like he wants to, he takes a deep breath and allows himself to let out a long sigh. 

Tsukishima decides to accept his fate. “Whatever, fuck it. Let's get this over with.”

Daichi gives him a huge, blinding smile. “That’s the spirit! Let's go meet the others.” 

~~~~

Tsukishima does not ‘go meet the others’. Instead, he nods at the group of people talking amongst themselves and then sits down in a chair against the wall that’s far enough away from the throng of people that he can sit and not be forced into a conversation, but close enough that he can hear if Daichi or the director called for him. 

Unfortunately, his silent reprieve is imposed upon rather quickly. 

A pair of beaten up cherry red converse shoes slowly approaches him. He had been staring at the ground and intently watching an ant meander along on the floor, in hopes that people will ignore him until he absolutely has to interact with them for the video. 

No such thing happens, because soon enough, the shoes are right in front of him. 

“Uh hi, I’m Yamaguchi Tadashi.” 

Even though Tsukishima is definitely taller than the man in front of him, Tsukishima has to crane his neck up to look Yamaguchi in the eye because he’s slouching intensely in his shitty plastic chair. 

As his eyes rake over the man's body to find his eyes, he can't help but notice the long, strong, smooth-looking tan legs that seemingly go on forever abruptly being cut off by a short pair of bubblegum pink shorts.

He mentally smiles at the fact that he’s wearing matching colored vans, but then frowns, unsure why it even matters to him. 

His glance continues its path upwards and finds that the man’s shorts are paired with a baggy black shirt that makes his already slim torso look like it’s drowning in the fabric. 

Tearing his eyes away from the simple yet striking fashion sense of the man in front of him, Tsukishima takes in the strong features and excessive freckles that reside on his perfectly proportioned face. 

Tsukishima likes the grayish green-brown color of his hair, knowing that it has to be natural because no color so unique could be conjured up in a dye. 

Huh. No wonder this guy is a model. 

He shakes himself out of his thoughts, belatedly realizing that he hasn’t said anything yet. “Hi. I’m Tsukishima,” he responds bluntly to the stunning man in front of him. 

“I know…” Yamaguchi says, before quickly flushing, causing his freckles to stand out even more. “I mean, um, since I’m gonna work with you, I, uh, know who you are, is all.” 

“Ah, yes. Of course.” 

The man’s blush grows impossibly redder, definitely sensing the almost cruel amount of sarcasm dripping from Tsukishima's voice. 

He smiles sheepishly, causing Tsukishima to notice his shallow dimples and perfect teeth.

“Well, I’m gonna go over there now,” he says, pointing towards two other men that seem to look like fellow models or extras for the video, “and, uh, regret saying everything that just spewed from my mouth… so, yeah. Bye!”

Tsukishima blinks to himself a few times as he watches Yamaguchi scramble away from him, bouncing up to his friends and jumping directly into their conversation, arms waving enthusiastically alongside his bright smile. 

Tsukishima is used to people being nervous around him—being a famous musician will do that. 

Even so, something about the way that the freckled man stumbled over his words appeals to Tsukishima. He seemed genuine, unlike other fans that spewed nonsense in a feeble attempt to capture his attention. 

Yamaguchi is most likely more famous than him. He’s personable and gorgeous in all the ways that Tsukishima is cold and hostile.

Regardless, he had seemed excited to meet Tsukishima and was unphased by his sharp tone and short replies. 

Tsukishima has a feeling that they just might get along.

~~~~

“Tsukishima, are you ready yet?” yells one of the workers from the studio, the sound muffled by the thin drywall dividers that his dressing room walls are made of.

“Uh,” states Tsukishima dumbly as he stares at himself in the mirror, “are you sure that this is my outfit?” 

“The black shirt with those jeans and pink boots?” the voice responds, sounding distracted by something—probably a camera—failing to recognize the tightness of Tsukishima's voice.

“I don't think that this qualifies as a shirt,” he mumbles to himself as he looks at his pale torso that’s completely visible through the tight mesh black fabric he was told to change into. 

He huffs in distress, once again pissed at himself for signing the stupid contract. But he’s honestly even more pissed at the fact that the shirt actually looks good on him, just like Suga had told him it would. 

Fucking ‘mother knows best’ my ass, he bitches internally. ‘Suga knows best’ will be the death of the one and only Tsukishima Kei.

His boots clunk on the floor as he exits the dressing room and slinks into the late-night diner styled set they’re working at today. 

Someone wolf-whistles.

“Damn Tsukishima, who knew you were hot under that shitty attitude,” Bokuto says jokingly as he hugs Akaashi from behind and giggles into his boyfriend’s dark curls like a child instead of the beefy tattoo artist he actually is. 

Tsukishima shoots him a saccharine smile and politely gives him the finger.

~~~~

Tsukishima wants to curl up into a ball with his headphones on and forget that the world exists. 

He’s exhausted from filming scenes in the diner set all day, and he knows that they’ve barely gotten any good takes. 

This might have been his fault, seeing as he has the acting skills of a dead squirrel and the emotional capacity of a Pistachio, but still, he’s tired and just wants to go home and fall into bed.

“Yamaguchi,” Oikawa, the pompous director, shouts from behind a camera, shaking Tsukishima from his thoughts, “when you see Tskishima enter you need to look up and act distraught. This is the guy that you left for someone else! You’ve just seen him again for the first time and don’t know what to do.”

Yamaguchi nods. “Um, ok,” he says in a nervous tone. “Is there anything you want me to do with my hands?” he questions, wringing them together like he's worried about messing up. 

As if he could mess anything about this video up. Yamaguchi is a phenomenal actor, always doing everything the directors asked for and exceeding expectations left and right. 

_Tsukishima_ was the one flubbing every single scene they had shot so far. 

Oikawa smiles at Yamaguchi like he's a child that needs to be placated. “Anything, just look upset.” 

The obnoxious director then turns to look and point at Tsukishima. “You. You need to look sad and surprised. You walk into a random place and the guy you were in love with, who left you for another dude, is sitting there right in front of you.” 

Bokuto, the fucking fool, snorts at the director’s words. 

Smiling stupidly, the two-toned haired man laughs out, “Good try, but Tsukishima has never had his heart broken! He hasn't even let himself fall in love since Kur--”

“Bokuto,” Akaashi warns.

“Right, uh. Since he discovered... Kur...Curly fries. Yeah, he only has room in his heart for them.” 

Akaashi’s face is stuck somewhere between being deeply enamored by his boyfriend’s stupidity, and being completely invested in smacking the dumbass. 

Tsukishima feels that it’s more of the latter, but he’s tired and wants to go home so he can get out of these boots that definitely aren’t broken in yet. So, he begrudgingly holds his tongue and just nods at Oikawa's smirking face, signaling that despite Bokuto’s statement, he understands what he’s supposed to do.

“Alright,” Oikawa sings out in a high falsetto that leaves Tsukishima's ears ringing. “Iwa-Chan, move that light a little to the left—yes there! Okay, let's film!” 

He positions himself behind the camera and motions for the actors to take their places before shouting, “Take seven, diner scene part one.” 

And with that, Tsukishima walks into the diner, doing his best to look sad. 

Yamaguchi looks up, locks eyes with Tsukishima, and begins to look distraught, just like Oikawa had told him to before he unceremoniously spills the prop coffee beverage he has in front of him all down his front. 

Yamaguchi stands up immediately with a barely audible ‘shitshitshit’ before quickly brushing past Tsukishima and walking briskly out of frame towards the bathroom to get cleaned up. 

“CUT,” Oikawa yells as Yamaguchi leaves the floor and enters the bathroom. “That actually looks good! Yamaguchi looked legitimately surprised. What a good little actor,” Oikawa sings toward the bathroom door, “the spilled coffee, while accidental, helped make the surprise seem more real! Plus, the quick exit and panicked look he gave the camera was good. Not to mention, Tsukishima looked genuinely confused and a little like he was having an out of body experience the whole time.” 

“I what?” He asks stupidly as he continues to stare at the bathroom door where he can barely hear the sink running.

Bokuto’s laughter fills the room. 

Oikawa just winks at Tsukishima like he knows something Tsukishima doesn’t before glancing at his watch, eyes widening at the time.

Finally, with a blinding smile, he says the words that Tsukishima has been praying to hear for the last three hours. “That's enough for today guys, good job. I’ll see everyone tomorrow.”

Tsukishima grabs his phone and sweatshirt before bolting out of the warehouse, unsure of where he’s headed, but feeling as if anywhere’s better than here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! 
> 
> the next update will be on 8/10/20
> 
> i hope you are enjoying!
> 
> much love,  
> xoxo napenthusiast ;)
> 
> note to self: updated 2/15/21


	3. SWEAR TO GOD

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I spent another night alone again  
> Woke up in the coldest, coldest bed  
> I ran into God at the liquor store  
> She asked me what I'm always running for  
> I gotta get out  
> I gotta get with it
> 
> -SWEAR TO GOD, blackbear

The team has completed a solid two weeks of filming and  Tsukishima is having somewhat of a crisis. 

He hasn’t gotten laid since the music video filming started. 

Most people wouldn’t find this issue to be as pressing as Tsukishima does, but he definitely  isn’t used to going this long without sex. He’s accustomed to taking someone home from a show or after-party. He even has a few guys to text if he wants a hook up with no strings attached. 

Perhaps this isn’t a particularly healthy way to cope with his problems, but sex is nice and he’s good at it, so sticks with what he knows. 

At least up until the past two weeks, as he currently isn’t sticking anything anywhere.

His last fuck had been the blonde he deemed ‘tongue stud’, and he barely even remembers it because he was so shitfaced that night. 

The team has been so busy with filming that Tuskihima only has the time and energy to stumble into his apartment, shower, and fall into bed when the workday is done. 

His days are almost exclusively spent at the warehouse and in his bed, with an occasional Sunday trip to the gym, the day which Oikawa has ‘mercifully’ let them have off. 

Tsukishima is almost positive that his lack of a sexual outlet to blow off steam is not helping with his ability to act as someone desirable in the music video, as he feels more irritable and pissy than usual. 

This  is saying something because people never write home about his warm and fuzzy demeanor in the first place. 

Today, it’s Oikawa's sing-songy voice that makes him want to fling himself onto the nearest sharp object (it makes him feel like this every other day he has to be around the perfectly put together man, but that's beside the point).

Not to mention the way Yamaguchi keeps giggling when someone from his makeup team says something funny. 

Every single little laugh makes  Tsukishima clench his fists and glare as the slender man's back muscles shake and shift under his loose-fitting t-shirt. 

He tears his eyes away from the makeup station and thinks about going to the gym later so he can try and work out some of his frustrations, even though he knows that it's a pointless endeavor.

~~~~

Instead of being free to go home after completing some solo scenes, Tsuskshima is ordered to stick around a little longer for one last scene with Yamaguchi. 

He had felt so stupid earlier just sitting alone on a bare chair in a dark room and singing halfheartedly at the camera, but Oikawa had insisted that they needed shots of him and the music to weave into the rest of the scenes. 

The coiffed man kept urging Tsukishima to ‘stare into the camera’s soul’, whatever the fuck that meant, and act like the sad words of the song actually meant something to him. 

Bokuto was there too, always commenting on Tsukishima's abysmal acting skills and being a general pain in the ass. 

Of course, because the world is a terrible, terrible place, Oikawa loves the silver-haired boy. He calls him “Owl Man” in a sickly sweet voice, making Tsukishima unable to decipher if he's being mean or not, and Oikawa always enthusiastically agrees with anything Bokuto says, even if the idea is decidedly terrible.

Tsukishima feels like Oikawa is doing it to piss him off, but he's not sure if he's that important. 

It probably has to do with whatever's going on between the pompous director and the lighting guy he always calls ‘Iwa-Chan’. The way Oikawa lands his hand on Bokuto's bicep and praises his horrendous ideas always results in a dark look and poorly concealed sneer from the buff, angry-looking lighting guy.

But maybe that's none of Tsukishima's business. 

After what seems like years of filming the same thing over and over from different angles, changing his seating positions, and Oikawa poking and prodding his body into the exact posture he wanted, Tsukishima is blessedly allowed to escape his personal hellscape.

Before he finally gets to sit down in the dingy chair at the wall he has deemed to be his own, a stage manager suddenly calls him and Yamaguchi over to where they will be filming the last scene of the day.

He turns around from his path towards the wall and heads back to the unpleasant reality where he still has work to do. 

~~~~

‘Oh god, oh fuck,’ is the pathetic mantra that’s been pounding in Tsukishima’s head for the past hour.

Yamaguchi is on top of him. Tsukishima is not entirely convinced that this isn’t some kind of dream slash nightmare scenario. 

It could very well be a dream. With Yamaguchi hovering over him, his green-tinted hair framing his face ever so nicely, and his beautiful shirtless torso glowing heavenly in the neon lights situated around the room. 

Tsukishima feels like he may even have had this dream once or twice—not that he would ever admit it out loud.

The nightmarish aspect of this dilemma is that none of this is real. The situation doesn't allow him to grip the other man's hips hard and kiss his neck with heat and passion like he’s desperately craving to do. 

No, this isn't even a pathetic little dream. It’s worse. It’s fake; entirely fabricated. This is all an act for a fucking music video. 

God, he’s regretting signing that contract more and more every second. 

Tsukishima’s sexual frustration also really isn’t helping. 

He tries not to focus on Yamaguchi’s kind eyes and sinful body because  _ fuck  _ he’s beautiful. 

Tsukishima likes to think that he’s a very controlled and intelligent person, but at this moment he’s so tempted to be recklessly stupid and impulsive and just kiss the boy above him. 

The blonde blames his intrusive thoughts on the fact that he hasn’t been laid in like, forever, and shoves any other reasons from his mind. 

Unfortunately, because he’s trying to avoid focusing on Yamaguchi, he is also, in turn, basically ignoring his love interest in the music video. His thoughts must be reflecting in his composure because Oikawa yells “CUT” every three seconds and berates Tsukishima for looking constipated and the absolute opposite of how he's supposed to look during this scene. 

For perhaps the millionth time, he curses Daichi, Suga, and that stupid fucking contract. 

Who knew that filming a music video would be such a clusterfuck of emotions for Tsukishima? 

Oikawa had told him earlier to focus on something that ‘grounded him’—whatever the fuck that means—for when they get back to filming, which basically means ‘get your shit together’ in director talk. Instead of uselessly attempting to ‘focus himself’, he risks a glance at Yamaguchi from where he sits, propped up in the large king bed that feels obscenely out of place in the open air of the warehouse.

Moments earlier, Yamaguchi had clambered off the bed to speak with a director about something across the room, giving Tsukishima a full view of the loose torn up light washed jeans he's clad in. He shudders, recalling the feeling of warm skin ghosting his own through the hole-ridden pants. 

“Tsukki?” Yamaguchi calls out as he begins to walk back towards the bed, causing the blonde to jolt to attention, his body going hot all over for reasons he can’t explain. 

The pair have begun to grow relatively close, at least for Tsukishima’s standards, over the period they have been filming together. 

They often have conversations over lunch breaks and during downtime between takes. It’s nothing short of a miracle that Yamaguchi always manages to pry a smile out of Tsukishima’s stoic face.

But this is a new development. 

‘Tsukki?’

Where the hell did the green-haired man get that from? The last person who had called him that was Kuroo, and even he stopped once they broke up. 

“Tsukki?” Yamaguchi says again, approaching him warily like he was a wolf about to pounce. “Is something wrong?” he questions innocently.

Oh god yes. Everything is wrong, Tsukishima thinks to himself. 

A beautiful boy is calling me Tsukki and I have the opportunity to run my hands all along his beautiful strong body, but I can't actually touch him like I want to because he's just here since we hired him for the video. And after getting to know him over these past weeks I want to touch him even more because I just know that his toothy smile when I comb my hands through his hair will be perfect. 

Instead of speaking his mind and subsequently ruining his entire life, he just schools his face into something neutral. 

“I’m fine, Yamaguchi. Let's just finish this scene.” 

~~~~

Suga catches up with Tsukishima in the parking garage and taps him on the shoulder just as he manages to unlock his car. 

‘You were stupid as shit in there,’ the ash haired man signs dully, leveling Tsukishima with a blank stare.

‘Gee thanks,’ he signs back, ‘great to know that the video will be a flop and that no one will ever come to my shows again.’

Suga crinkles his nose in distaste at Tsukishima's sarcastic remark. ‘That's not what I meant and you know it. Oikawa and the editors can make your piss-poor excuse of acting look fine,’ his hands flash out, pausing before he continues at a slower pace, ‘I meant with Yamaguchi.’

Tsukishima works to keep his expression in check while retorting with, ‘I don't know what you mean.’

His silvered haired media specialist, and more importantly, his friend, glares at him knowingly. ‘What are you running from, Tsukishima?’ he signs a little sadly as if he can't fathom why Kei would do this to himself. 

‘When I figure it out, you'll be the first to know,’ Tsukishima signs back snappishly, eyes widening when he realizes that he had just admitted to running from something.

“Fuck,” he mutters to himself as he turns away from Suga and retreats back toward his truck.

Before clambering into the driver's seat, he signs a quick, ‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ at Suga, turning away from the man’s knowing face and quickly starting up the engine to peel out into open air so that he can breathe regularly again. 

Tsukishima  _ knows  _ that he’s running away from good possibilities.

But he’s scared because that’s all they are— _ possibilities _ . Tsukishima prefers to deal with definites, and he has learned the hard way that the only definite thing in life is himself. Everything and everyone else is a fickle thing that can hurt him, even without meaning to.

Running is something that he knows, something that he’s familiar with, something that he’s  _ good  _ at. He’s never had a problem with it before, so why is he just now starting to feel winded? 

~~~~

He slides into bed that night feeling particularly pathetic, thinking about counting freckles and clasping a delicate tan hand in his own. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im a little early with my update but i hit sort of a roadblock and just wanted to post this so i can try working on the next few chapters that im more invested in... oopsies.
> 
> anyways thanks for reading!! 
> 
> much love to all those that leave kudos and comments 
> 
> *mwah*
> 
> note to self: updated 2/15/21


	4. down 4 u

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’ma lay down, I’ma lay down 4 U  
> Yeah, Yeah  
> I’ma lay down, I’ma lay down 4 U  
> Oh, Yeah  
> Don't make a sound, don't make a sound
> 
> -down 4 u, blackbear (feat. T-Pain)

The last week of filming is coming to a close.  Tsukishima is both elated and startlingly disappointed about this. 

On one hand, the hours spent at the warehouse filming can now be filled with other things like going to the gym, strumming his guitar in an attempt to summon up a new song at the recording studio, and perhaps begrudgingly spending time with Daichi and Suga at their apartment. 

On the other hand, the end of filming implies that he no longer has an excuse to see and talk to Yamaguchi every day. 

But instead of trying to decipher the meaning of the sadness he feels towards things to come, Tsukishima shoves these less than appealing thoughts out of his mind in an attempt to focus on one of the final scenes they’re working on. 

“Tsukishima! You need to look more heartbroken! Yamaguchi is the guy that just left you and it's impossible for you to get over him!” 

Without looking up from the shiny black boots he’s wearing, Tsukishima takes a long breath and steadies his voice before responding to Oikawa's exclamation. “Okay.”

“Tsukki!” Yamaguchi butts in at Tsukishima’s dull statement, “You can do it! I can totally act like I broke your heart. Look!” 

The freckled boy contorts his face into something of a grimace, his eyes darkening comically as his bubbly demeanor shifts into something that looks more like he's constipated, rather than a heartbreaker. 

Tsukishima can’t help but let a sharp laugh escape from his chest, bringing his hand up to cover the smile that's threatening to take over his face, “Sh-shut up Yamaguchi,” he stutters over his giggle to help disguise the fact that he's so enamored with the man in front of him. 

The soft eye contact occurring between them is rudely interrupted by their obnoxious director.

“Ya-hoo! Tsukki and Yama! Stop flirting and get over here, we need another take from a different angle.”

Yamaguchi whirls around with a smile, “Coming, Oikawa!” and skips over to where there’s a new camera set up. 

Tsukishima finds his own face forming a constipated look at Oikawa's words. Flirting? They weren't flirting. Were they? Yamaguchi didn't deny it, so does that mean that they were? Or did he know that Oikawa was joking? 

While his mind ponders the meaning of those words, his mouth forms a sullen retort. “Don’t call me ‘Tsukki’.”

He’s terribly unfocused for the rest of the shots, and Oikawa eventually just gives up and sends them home, warning Tsukishima that he needs to get his shit together for their last day of filming tomorrow.

Tsukishima lets out a huff of acknowledgment before practically running for the exit, hoping to go somewhere where he can clear his mind and attempt to sort his thoughts out.

~~~~

“Yo,  Tsukishima!” 

The man in question cranes his head over his shoulder to find  Hinata hurtling toward him at an astonishing speed just as he opens the door of his truck. 

“What,” the blonde says unenthusiastically, wanting to get the conversation over with as quickly as possible so he can leave. 

“Did you hear about the party tomorrow night?”

“No,” he responds, even though he’s pretty sure that Suga mentioned it a few days ago. “But that doesn't change the fact that I won't be attending.” 

Hinata whines and deflates in front of him, “But  Tsukishimaaaaaaaaa, you have to come! Me and Kageyama are gonna have a dance-off with Yachi and Yamaguchi!” 

Tsukishima blinks as his mind conjures up hilarious images of the four of them dancing drunkenly and almost has to contain a laugh before he realizes that Hinata is awaiting a response from him. 

“Very appealing. Seeing you and the King make a fool of yourselves would be fun, but I still don't think I’ll make it.” 

“You're no fun!” Hinata wails as he flails his body in astonishment. 

“I feel like that has already been established many times.” 

“BLAUGH!” the redhead exclaims, throwing his hands into the air spastically. “I’ll make sure you come. Mark my words, I’ll see you there.” 

With a mischievous evil grin that makes Tsukishima mildly nervous, Hinata finally bounces away and leaves the taller man alone with his car and thoughts. 

~~~~

The next day at filming, just as Oikawa calls out the final “CUT!” and the shots of the video are finally considered complete (thank god), Yamaguchi walks up to  Tsukishima with a huge smile on his face. 

“Hey, Tsukki! Good job today! Isn't it crazy that we’re finally done? It feels like we've been working on it forever and only a few seconds all at the same time!” 

Now used to the freckled man's enthusiastic rambling, Tsukishima feels his lips twitch upwards into a smile. “It is crazy. It’ll be nice to be able to sleep in now though.” 

For all some people thought that he’d be a morning person, Tsukishima always stays up well past midnight and hates having to converse with someone before ten o'clock and a large cup of coffee. 

Yamaguchi pulls an endearingly cute face at  Tsukishima’s statement.  “Heh! Tsukki’s not a morning person? I should've known. I'm always up early, there's just so much to do every day! You can't waste precious sunlight.” 

The blond lets a full grin crack his face upon hearing about Yamaguchi's passion for daylight. 

“Precious sunlight my ass. I like staying up late as the weather is always cooler at nighttime. Plus, it's more aesthetically pleasing.”

“Whatever,” Yamaguchi smiles back at him, “I guess we’ll just have to agree to disagree! Buttttt,” he draws out in a teasing tone, “since you have such a passion for the nightlife, you have to come to the party tonight!” 

Dammit Hinata, hitting  Tsukishima where he's weakest - with pretty freckled boys that have loud laughs and precious smiles. 

“I-I’m not sure it's really my scene.” 

“Tsukishima,” Yamaguchi interrupts before he can mutter out any more weak excuses, “you’re literally a world-famous singer. I t’s most definitely your scene. I know you were always at parties and stuff before this video took over your life, so you should totally come!” 

Tsukishima feels his resolve slowly crumble under Yamaguchi's hope-filled stare.

“Maybe I’ll show up for an hour…” he mumbles.

Yamaguchi bounces on his heels happily, “Yay! I can't wait, Tsukki. See you tonight!” 

Tsukishima finds himself thinking that the smile he just received from the freckled boy would probably make even the shittiest party enjoyable. 

~~~~

As promised,  Tsukishima finds himself standing in front of Bokuto and Akaashi’s house that night. He may be an hour late, but he feels like just showing up to the party is already a great accomplishment for him.

He can already tell by the loud music and throngs of people he can see through the window that this party is not like the ones he usually attends. He typically ends up at smaller, less rowdy, get-togethers where he can smoke and drink in peace.

But instead of doing a 360 and running away like he really wants to, he takes a deep breath before shouldering the door open, the scent of beer and weed immediately assaulting his nose.

Tsukishima slinks into the living room area that’s been rearranged to pose as a dancefloor and narrowly avoids a drunken body that flies past him to go through a door he can only assume leads to the bathroom. 

He glances with distaste at the crushed cans and cups that litter the ground under the throng of gyrating bodies. He only feels slightly bad for Bokuto and Akaashi, who will have to clean up the sticky mess tomorrow. 

Speaking of, Tsukishima’s eyes glide over the couches that have been unceremoniously pushed up against the wall before being met with the ever-so-sweet sight of Akaashi and Bokuto making out with fervor. 

He catches Bokuto slinking his hands from his slim partner's waist and grabbing a handful of his ass over the skintight black jeans the smaller is wearing as they grind their hips together in tandem. 

Tsukishima is pretty sure if the music was just a smidge lower the whole building would be able to hear the porn-like noises the pair is probably making. He has the urge to mime throwing up, but he doesn’t have an audience to appreciate his childish actions.

He tears his eyes away and finds himself growing a tad bit pissed. 

Bokuto can get laid and he can’t? The world truly is askew. Sure, Bokuto and Akaashi have been dating for years—but still, Tsukishima feels unjustly miffed at the fact that they had to flaunt their love in front of him, even unknowingly.

Fuck, he needed a drink.

He quickly finds himself scanning the rest of the house as he walks out of the kitchen with a newly retrieved beer in hand. 

As he steps out of the kitchen's threshold, he sees a flash of green-brown hair and almost spits out his drink when he lets his eyes capture the rest of the man's body. 

The freckled man's top knot is falling out of its hot pink scrunchie, bangs caressing his face down to his neck where a golden choker sits tightly on his tan skin. His lithe torso is barely covered by a jaggedly cut VANS crop top that  Tsukishima is currently thanking every deity he can think of for. Similarly, Yamaguchi's cut-off jean shorts are frayed at the ends and are sinfully tight, making Tsukishima wonder if his thighs will fail due to a lack of circulation. 

He looks like an angel and a wet dream all at once.

Tsukishima is fucked. Well, figuratively, at least, because in the literal sense, Tsukishima has not, in fact, been getting fucked recently. 

The way Yamaguchi looks tonight reminds him of this fact more than ever. 

_ Pathetic _ , Tsukishima can't help but think about himself as he turns on his heel and marches back into the kitchen. 

~~~~

Tsukishima finishes his beer and grabs another from a randomly placed cooler before finally approaching Yamaguchi. 

The freckled man had been talking to a group of people that Tsukishima could only presume were other models, based on their gorgeous features and stylish outfits. 

Before he can talk himself into turning around and becoming more inebriated in order to talk to the beautiful man he had worked with, Yamaguchi notices Tsukishima’s approach. 

“Tsukki, you came!” 

“I said I would, didn’t I?” he replied sheepishly, a little embarrassed to be called the sweet nickname in front of a group of strangers. 

Catching on to his discomfort, Yamaguchi motions to introduce the men and women he’d been talking with. “This is Yahaba, Kiyoko, Tendou, and Lev! They're some of my friends from the modeling agency, we've done a bunch of shoots together and stuff like that.” 

They all smile and greet him kindly. Tsukishima still feels mildly outnumbered by the gorgeous group of people, but they seem nice enough.

“C’mon!” pipes out an excited Lev, “Let’s dance!” he cries, as his long limbs flail and slosh mystery liquid out of his solo cup. 

Tsukishima grimaces at the odd colored puddle of ambiguous alcohol that now resides on the floor.

His eyes are torn from the abysmal puddle when Yamaguchi suddenly clasps his hand in his smaller one and begins to drag Tsukishima toward the dance floor. 

“Yamaguchi—” he starts, “I don't dance.” 

“Too bad!” Yamaguchi laughs as he continues to pull Tskishima into the mob of swaying people, “everyone’s trashed already, so no one cares if you can't dance!”

“I didn't say I  _ can't _ , I said I  _ don't _ ,” Tsukishima grumbles, but his words are inaudible over the loud music and they’re lost completely when Yamaguchi pulls him close under the flashing lights.

Tsukishima decides that even if he doesn't dance, he  _ is  _ a musician, so he can at least sway to a beat. 

Yamaguchi dances like a devil and an angel at the same time. 

He’s convinced that the devil has sent the freckled boy to this dance floor when he presses his back against Tsukishima's torso and rolls his body sinfully slowly with his head thrown back and eyes closed, basking in the dim red lights that pulse along with a sultry song. 

He’s sure that the green-haired beauty is a gift straight from heaven when he throws his arms around Tsukishima's tall shoulders and smiles so big that his tongue pokes out from between his perfectly aligned front teeth.

When he raises his hands up and throws his head back in a gleeful laugh, Tsukishima just about loses his mind. 

The large expanse of tan skin exposed by the other boy’s crop top sends shivers down his spine, and the overwhelming smirk that dents his face with the smallest of dimples on his left cheek is enough to make Tsukishima grin sheepishly back at him from where he’s swaying slightly to the music. 

Tsukishima is entranced by the slow way Yamaguchi’s hips curve and dip in time to the music. 

Tsukishima knows he couldn’t possibly manage to tear his eyes away even if he wanted to. But fortunately for him, he has absolutely no intention of looking away. 

~~~~

“Let’s go outside, it's too hot in here,” Yamaguchi whisper-yells into his ear over the music after they’ve danced together for a while. There is a slight sheen of sweat on each of their bodies, and Tsukishima is tired of random people bumping into him and drunken fools stepping on his toes. 

Tsukishima nods and follows his friend (is that what they were to each other?) outside, letting himself stare at the sexy way the shorter man's ass sways in his tight pants, and then instantly berates himself for thinking such things, they were  _ friends _ . 

Yamaguchi comes to a stop at a short stone wall that surrounds a large patio area and they sit there shoulder to shoulder, catching their breath. 

They have a nice view of mountains and palm trees basking in multicolored shining lights from the party through the large window behind them. 

The pair sat in companionable silence for a while, the thrum of heavy bass from inside the house filling the quiet air. 

Tsukishima usually finds silences awkward as he never chooses to fill them even if it’s obvious that others expect him to. But with Yamaguchi, the silence feels comfortable and right. 

Just as Tsukishima has mustered up enough courage to say something about how he still wants to see Yamaguchi even though they aren’t filming together anymore, the freckled man beats him to it. 

“Can I have your number, Tsukki? I want to keep in touch with you after today.” 

The blonde finds himself grinning as he slides his phone out of his pocket and hands it to the man next to him. “I would really enjoy that,” he says truthfully. 

With confidence Tsukishima didn't know the other boy had, but probably should have expected, Yamaguchi leans into his space and places a chaste kiss onto Tsukishima's cold cheek. 

“Thanks for working with me, Tsukki,” he smiles up at him beautifully, watching as Tsukishima slowly brings his fingers up to his face, tracing over the space Yamaguchi's lips just were, chasing the heat they sparked on his skin. 

Tsukishima found himself smiling softly back, “No, thank  _ you _ , Tadashi.” 

~~~~

When he checks his phone later that night, he sees that 

**Yamaguchi Tadashi :)**

has been added as a contact.

He listens to his heartbeat thrum loudly in his chest as he falls asleep with the ghost of a smile on his face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!
> 
> as always kudos and comments r the loves of my life so lemme know if u enjoyed this :)
> 
> school starts soon but I have lots of the next few chapters outlined and parts written so the next update should be done by 8/20/20 hopefully.
> 
> thanks again!!! xoxoxo
> 
> authors note: updated 2/15/21


	5. Flirt Right Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’ma flirt right back, yeah  
> I’ma spend this money, I’ma make it right back  
> If she gon’ flirt with me, I’ma flirt right back  
> I’ma flirt right back, oh, yeah
> 
> -Flirt Right Back, blackbear

Tsukishima is having another personal crisis.

He seems to be having these much more often ever since Yamaguchi has entered into his life, but he pretends as if the two things are just correlation, not causation. 

His current internal calamity is that Yamaguchi has been  _ hanging out  _ with him.

They spend time together! What the actual fuck? Next to no one spends time with Tsukishima unless they absolutely have to. Everyone thinks that he's a cold asshole or a self-righteous celebrity with an attitude problem. 

It takes  _ ages  _ for him to open up to people and it takes even longer for others to understand that his snark is just a surface level trait and that he's also extremely observant and has the ability to be genuinely nice (but only on rare occasions, he has a reputation to uphold, after all). 

So how did Yamaguchi Tadashi weasel his way into his life and make Tsukishima feel like they've known each other for much longer than just the few months that they spent working on the video together? 

How did a klutzy, anxious, scrunchie-wearing, freckled man befriend the distant and irritable Tsukishima Kei? 

Why is Tsukishima thanking every star in the sky for this unpredictable turn of events? 

So even though Tsukishima is eternally grateful that Yamaguchi is actively reaching out and trying to spend time with him, he is having a personal and entirely internalized crisis because he doesn’t know what any of it  _ meant _ .

Yamaguchi sends him texts saying he’s getting coffee nearby and asks if Tsukishima is free to join him. If he's not busy at the studio or gym, he always says yes. 

Tsukishima mentioned a new movie starring someone he knew over lunch one day and Yamaguchi went with him to the official viewing party. 

If Tsukishima knows better, he’d say that they are dating.

But he doesn’t know better, because he honestly doesn’t even know what dating entails. 

The last person he had dated was Kuroo, and for the last few months of their relationship, they weren't technically even dating at all. They kept breaking up with each other, getting back together to have rough, frustrated sex and then claiming that it would be the last time. 

So yeah, that's definitely not what he and Yamaguchi are doing. Although he wouldn’t be  _ opposed  _ to having hot sex with the shorter man, he is content with the lingering touches and heavy eye contact they seem to be having more and more frequently. 

Fuck, now he’s thinking of having sex with Yamaguchi.

Shuffling out of bed, Tsukishima shoves sweats on over his slightly tented boxers in hopes of killing his horniness. He goes to make some tea, intent on forgetting about the  _ situation  _ in his pants. 

~~~~

“Fuck it,” Tsukishima mumbles to himself in the shower, sliding his hand to palm at his still half-hard dick.

His hard-on had been spectacularly resilient this morning, increasingly pissing him off as he finished his tea, read some articles on his phone, and folded week old wrinkled laundry.

His mundane tasks did nothing to quell the blood rushing south. He even tried thinking of mundane things, like listing the top hundred Rock songs from 1987

_ With or Without You, U2, My Baby, The Pretenders, Livin’ On A Prayer, Bon Jovi. _

That usually did the trick, initiating an almost Pavlovian response for his dick to become soft. 

But alas, maybe Tsukishima has finally reached his breaking point. 

It  _ has  _ been a long while since he last jerked off. Filming the video and hanging out with Yamaguchi often left him with little time to himself. 

Not that he minded spending time with Yamaguchi.

God, if the freckled man were here now…

Tsukishima bites back a moan as he slides his hand up and down his shaft, the warm water from the shower slicking with pre-come as he slides his thumb over the head.

Yamaguchi’s tan hands would look so nice against his own pale skin. Tsukishima imagines kissing his freckled shoulder and biting it softly to elicit delightful moans from the other.

He thinks back to the soft feeling of Yamaguchi’s lips on his skin he had felt at the party. 

Yamaguchi's warm, soft lips that would taste like the strawberry chapstick he uses, and the way his eyes would flutter closed as he leans in to seal their lips together.

“Fuck,” Tsukishima  _ whines  _ out. God, he’s so glad no one was there to hear him. 

He duly notes that his head makes a light thunk against the tiled wall as he cranes his neck in pleasure.

“Fuck,” he murmurs again as he thinks of pulling Yamaguchi’s long hair at the nape of his neck to gain access to the column of his throat and kissing it delicately, breathing in the sweet smell of his skin. 

The scent the other man always gave off was fruity and musky all at once, invading Tsukishima’s nose and making him feel lightheaded in the most wonderful way. 

He quickens the pace of his hand, the water letting his fingers slide easily over his cock with each flick of his wrist. 

Heat pools in his stomach and he continues to think of how achingly perfect Yamaguchi would look sprawled out on his back with all the freckles that smatter his lithe body. 

Tsukishima would lean over him and kiss every single one. 

He thinks about how Yamaguchi would sound. 

He wonders if he would whine or make soft little grunts or let out breathy mewls. He thinks about how Yamaguchi would cry out his name as he comes, his voice breaking over the simple syllable,  _ Kei _ . 

He finds himself moaning loudly as he reaches his climax, pumping himself through his orgasm, letting his back arch and legs shake as he loses himself in his filthy imagination. 

“Fuck,” Tsukishima says to himself one last time as he slumps against the shower wall, watching the cum on his stomach and hand being washed away by the steady stream of water.

Tsukishima immediately feels guilty, but he made a rule for himself before getting into the music industry to never feel guilty, so he attempts (and unfortunately mostly fails) to shake off the dirty feeling in order to move about and get ready for the day. 

‘The next time I see Yamaguchi will  _ not  _ be weird,’ he tells himself, ‘because you are a grown-ass man that jerks off sometimes. It's totally normal.’

Yeah right, it's totally normal to jerk off to someone who you’ve previously worked with, who kissed your cheek once at a party, and who's kinda your friend, but you also still don't know where you stand with him.

Yeah, Tsukishima, totally normal.

~~~~

“You drive a yellow Ducati motorcycle,” Tsukishima deadpans, but his mind is in a state of disarray with the constant screwballs Yamaguchi is throwing at him.

The current screwball being the dangerous and obnoxiously neon yellow vehicle that Yamaguchi is now leaning over and pulling a helmet out of. 

Honestly, you think you know a person.

You would think that a man who rambles on about his favorite makeup brands and uses pink scrunchies to throw his hair in a bun would be the last person to own an insanely pricey, flashy, and not to mention,  _ fast _ , motorcycle. 

But nonetheless, here they are standing right next to the eyesore of a vehicle… and Tsukishima can't help but note that Yamaguchi's ass looks particularly good in his tight black jeans, the color contrast of them next to the motorcycle laughable. 

“What?” Yamaguchi asks as he snaps the storage compartment of the bike shut, two helmets in his hand, “Oh, yeah! I move around a lot and it's typically easier to find parking for a motorcycle than a car. Plus,” he adds with a blinding smile that takes Tsukishima’s breath away, “my favorite color’s yellow!” 

Tsukishima just stares at the freckled boy, debating running away so he can maybe regulate his breathing and will away the blush that’s rapidly rising on his face due to the endearing manner of Yamaguchi's explanation.

Tsukishima’s stomach churns at the thought of sitting behind Yamaguchi on the bike.

It isn’t fear, oh no. It’s something much, much worse. Something that resides low in his gut, like a punch to his core, flooding it with heat.

He thinks about the way he’s going to have to sit flush against the smaller man on the seat, with his arms wrapped around his waist in order to stay upright on the fast-moving vehicle. 

But he is not going to admit to himself what the flames in his core really mean, at least not now. 

‘He’s just hot,’ Tsukishima consoles himself. ‘ I don't actually lov-- I’m not interested in him like that. He’s a model, anyone in their right mind would find him attractive, I’m no different.’

Unfortunately, this line of thinking is null, because Tsukishima always has been, and always will be, different. 

He gets on the goddam motorcycle and wraps his lanky arms around Yamaguchi before they tear off into the rapidly approaching night. 

~~~~

The pair enjoyed a wonderful night out in the town.

Well, in the town’ is a bold choice of words considering all they did was disregard speed limits on Yamaguchi's motorcycle and walk around a small park to people-watch. 

But still, Tsukishima had more fun than he'd had in ages, and he walks into his apartment feeling tired and, dare he say, happy. 

His gooey feelings of contentment are cut short by the obnoxious tone of CupcakKe’s hit song ‘Deepthroat’. 

The profane lyrics signify to him that the one and only Kuroo Tetsuro is waiting for him to answer, no doubt waiting with bated breath to scream into the receiver when the blonde accepts the call. 

Cursing his existence and the fact that Kuroo had saved this sinful song as his ringtone and then cursing himself for not changing it, he lifts the phone to his ear. 

“What.” 

“That's no way to greet your beloved ex and current best friend!” Kuroo whines at Tsukishima’s dull tone.

“You're not my best friend.” 

Kuroo gasps dramatically, “Kenma! Tsukki has a new best friend, what am I to do?” 

Tsukishima ignores the bedhead's antics and greets his ex's new, and much better suited for him, boyfriend. “Hey Kenma, Hinata told me to tell you hello,” he says, remembering the odd friendship between the two short ones. 

“Oh,” Tsukishima hears Kenmas muffled reply, “Tell him hi from me too, I'll call him sometime soon.” 

“Okay.” 

“Tsukkkkiiiiii,” Kuroo whines now that the conversation no longer includes him, “I didn't call for you to talk to my boyfriend, I called to talk about  _ your  _ boyfriend!” 

Tsukishima blanches, glad that neither of the two on the other line can see him. “I don't have a boyfriend.” 

“Bullshit!” Kuroo claims, “I’ve seen the tabloids, you're always with that cute freckled guy. You even went to Yaku’s movie viewing with him.”

Tsukishima feels himself blushing, “You know I don't read tabloids, and you shouldn't either,” he berates, “none of it's true, it's all speculation and gossip.” 

“Whatever, I can tell you like him. He's probably got you wrapped around his little finger. Is he bossy in bed? I know you like that.”

Tsukishima can practically feel Kuroo’s smirk through the phone. Similarly, he can pretty much hear Kenma’s eye roll. 

“OW KENMA WHAT WAS THAT FOR!” 

Tsukishima chuckles at Kuroo’s deserved pain. 

“Tsukki don't laugh! Kenma shoved me off the couch!” 

Tsukishima finds himself smiling at the pudding-heads action, “As he should, you pervert.” 

“TSUKKI!” the phone picks up weird muffled noises, “Sorry, I had to dig you out of the couch because Kenma  _ flung me into the coffee table _ .”

Tsukishima snickers again as he hears Kenma’s short retort of “Pissbaby.”

Kuroo scoffs but returns his attention to Tsukishima again. “Whatever. Back to business. How is Mr. Freckles in bed?” 

Tsukishima steadies his voice, somewhat upset that Kuroo thinks he only likes Yamaguchi because he’s a good lay. “His name’s Yamaguchi, and, if you must know, I haven’t slept with him, so fuck off.” 

“Oh ho ho?” Kuroo chants out, “Tsukki must really like him then!” 

“He’s my  _ friend _ ,” Tsukishima replies a little too quickly.

“Suuuuurrrreeee,” Kuroo drawls out, “Just keep us updated, we’ll want to attend the wedding— you know how good Kenma looks in dress clothes and you wouldn't want to deprive me of such a sight, would you?” 

Tsukishima huffs at the older man's obnoxious teasing. “Good night Kuroo, bye Kenma, tell the cats hello.” 

“GOOD LUCK TSUKKI!!! WE’RE ROOTING FOR YOUR SAPPY LOVE STORY.”

“Whatever,” Tsukishima sighs into the phone and hangs up, not wanting to put up with Kuroo's dramatics any longer. 

~~~~

  
Whatever he has with Yamaguchi is most definitely  _ not  _ a love story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! next chap should be up by the end of the month! 
> 
> there will be a lot more smut to come so i hope youre all looking forward to that lol,
> 
> thanks for reading, hope u enjoyed. 
> 
> xoxo, napenthusiast :)
> 
> authors note: update 2/15/21


	6. chateau

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Had a heart I’m tryna’ get it back though  
> White linen, white rose, lets go  
> So please, baby, please baby talk slow  
> Talk slow, I’m off the blow, I’m off the ‘dro, I’m in my zone  
> Grab your girls, grab your phone and lets go  
> Get ready we going to the Chateau
> 
> \- chateau, blackbear

Tsukishima’s  life has felt like a blur recently . 

Everything is going by so quickly. The music video was released and his fans went batshit crazy over it, people constantly praising Yamaguchi for his beauty and acting skills, almost forgetting about Tsukishima himself. Not that he minds. 

Overall, even though Tsukishima hates to admit the fact in front of Daichi, the video was a great hit and really helped his image. 

It had been such a big hit, actually, that Daichi and Suga wanted to organize a huge one-time concert as a sort of ‘celebration’, even though the concert would be scheduled to occur a month after the video had been posted. 

With some less than subtle coercing from Yamaguchi,  Tsukishima relented.

As soon as he said that he was okay with performing, Daichi, Suga, and the rest of his management team flew into a whirlwind of activity to get ready for the already rapidly approaching concert. 

“Tsukki! I’m so excited to see you on stage! I've never heard you sing in person, you know,” Yamaguchi pouts, looking at Tsukishima with a face filled with faux disappointment. 

“Shut up, Yamaguchi,” he huffs, shoving his hand into Yamaguchi's face as if he was trying to wipe the pouty expression from his mouth.

“Hmmmff!!” 

Tsukishima ruffles his fingers against the freckled boy's bangs as he continues to smash his hand lightly into the other’s startled expression. 

The blond's warm smirk is startled off his face when he feels a warm wetness slide across his palm. 

Tsukishima snaps his hand back to his side. “Yamaguchi! Did you just lick me?” he asks the culprit as he wipes his hand on his pants in disgust. 

Yamaguchi sticks his tongue out at him with an evil glint in his eyes before turning on his heel and sauntering toward the exit.

“Can't wait to watch you sing, Tsukki! I’ll text you tonight!”

Tsukishima sighs and wonders how he let himself fall into this predicament. 

~~~~

Tsukishima is physically ready for the concert. 

But mentally? Mentally, he’s an absolute shitshow and does not particularly want to step outside of the confines of his room, so he instead opts to hide in the dingy lighting and ignore the cheering crowd and blinding lights that are waiting for him. 

Suga was the one who had decided his outfit for him, claiming that if Tsukishima dressed himself, he would just go onstage in grey sweats and a ratty band T-shirt.

Unfortunately, Suga was right. When Tsukishima tried to argue that this attire was completely acceptable for a show, Suga signed at him even more exasperatedly than usual, eventually breaking Tsukishima down enough until he relented and gave Suga permission to choose his attire for that evening.

Tsukishima regrets ever agreeing to such a terrible, terrible deal. 

He stares at himself as he hides in his backstage dressing room, silently cursing Suga and his need to dress him in the most obscene clothing he’s ever seen.

At least it’s black, he thinks to himself as he continues to shimmy into the sinfully tight jeans that were laid out for him in his dressing room. 

He finds a sticky note on top of them that read:

_ ~~~ Do not complain about this amazing outfit I chose for you!!! You will look AMAZING in it, no one COUGH- YAMAGUCHI- COUGH will b able to resist you ;))) <333 SUGA ~~~ _

Tsukishima wants to text Suga and complain anyway to tell him that writing out *cough* is not the same as actually coughing, but the time that he wasted trying to get his ass into the jeans means he has to be on stage soon, so he internalizes the bitching and turns to find the shirt he’s supposed to wear instead. 

Oh for fuck’s sake. He’s going to kill Suga. 

First of all, it’s black, which would usually be great, but this shirt is made of a shimmery black fabric that he just knows is going to make him sweat obnoxiously. 

Secondly, he realizes as he hooks the fabric over his head, the shirt is going to fit him like a second skin. 

It plasters itself immediately to his torso, sticking to his skin and making him feel almost as if he’s wearing a wetsuit. 

He winces as he shoves his phone into his back pocket of his pants, grimacing at the lack of stretch his tight jeans allowed for. 

Even with the horrible practicality of the outfit, he has to admit that he looks good. 

He could easily pick up any guy and take him home to fuck. Not that he has a hard time doing that anyway—being rich and famous made it easy—and it didn't hurt that he stands at six foot two and is in relatively good shape.

But that poses another problem. 

Tsukishima doesn't want to pick up just any guy, he wants to take home a  _ certain  _ guy.

A certain model who wears short shorts to filming sets and uses ratty yellow scrunchies to tie his hair up in a disaster bun. 

He shakes his head forcefully, attempting to scatter the images he was compiling.

He doesn’t have time to daydream about things that are never going to happen. Yamaguchi and he are  _ friends. _

They are friends that hang out all the time, friends that let their hands brush together ever so slightly when they walk in the park, friends that burn crimson when their eye contact lingers for those extra few seconds. 

But nevermind that. Yamaguchi is just a touchy person, a  _ kind  _ person.

Yes. Yamaguchi is a great  _ friend _ . 

Tsukishima shakes his head again to clear his thoughts before he steps out of his dressing room to brave the crowd of fans that are waiting for him. 

~~~~

Tsukishima doesn't let himself think.  He just lets himself get lost in the music. 

He forgets about the stage under his feet. He ignores the lights, the crowd, and the screams coming from his fans. 

Tsukishima just stands there and sings, letting his voice slide low into his gut, closing his eyes, and moving to the music. 

He lets his lips move around the words he wrote and finds himself remembering the way he sat in a bar somewhere far, far away, and wrote the chorus on a shitty bar napkin with a pen he had stolen from the bartender. 

_ Oh Lord he coming through in a minute _

_ These dudes caught in their feelings _

_ But I ain't got no feelings  _

_ Cause I ain't got no ceilings _

_ Oh Lord  _

He'd just left Kuroo for the last time. Running away in order to save himself from something he knew he couldn't stop himself from doing if he stayed. 

Tsukishima had run away from love back then and hasn’t stopped running since. 

He knows that back then, it was what he had to do. It was what he needed to do for himself, for his career. 

But now?

Now Kei knows he can't let his past fears get in the way of something he could have a chance at.

Maybe it’s time to give up on his past trepidations and dive into something that excites him, something that makes him feel more alive than ever. 

Maybe it’s time to stop running. 

~~~~

The performance put on by the blonde onstage is encapsulating, the whole audience unable to take their eyes off of Tsukishima as he grasps the microphone gingerly to mutter out obscene words in an angelic tone.

_ Had a heart I’m tryna’ get it back though _

_ White linen, white rose, let’s go _

_ So please, baby, please baby talk slow _

_ Talk slow, I’m off the blow, I’m off the ‘dro, I’m in my zone _

Tsukishima wants him to know. Tsukishima wants Yamaguchi to know that he's going to stop running away. 

Tsukishima thinks of the way Yamaguchi calls him up to go out for dinner, and the way he smiles shyly when Tsukishima compliments him. 

Tsukishima thinks of these things and sings to show Yamaguchi that if the freckled boy is running after him, he will let himself be caught. 

~~~~

Between songs, after feeling sweat pool all over his chest and back throughout the whole show so far, Tsukishima works to take off his sorry excuse for a shirt. 

Gripping the bottom with both hands, he slips it over his torso with a practiced motion before using the soft material to wipe his sweaty face. 

He throws it carelessly behind him onto the ground with little thought as the opening beats of the next song start to blare through the speakers. 

When the crowd’s screams rise to an earthshaking decibel at his now half-naked body,  Tsukishima has a sinking suspicion that this was Suga’s goal all along. 

It was rare for him to take off clothes during a concert, usually only if he was high or performing at some poorly aerated indoor facility in which the muggy heat was entirely unbearable.

But here he is, absurd amounts of sweat dripping off him because of Suga’s heat-trapping shirt. So he takes it off and played right into Suga’s masterful plan. 

~~~~

When  Tsukishima finally gets home after escaping from the fans that lurked near the back entrance, still basking in the euphoria from performing, he fished his buzzing phone out from the pockets of his sweats.

**From: Yamaguchi Tadashi**

_ i'm coming over.  _

Tsukishima knits his brows together, slightly confused as to why Yamaguchi would want to come over so late. Maybe he wants to watch a movie? Or congratulate him on the successful show? 

Either way, he decides that he should clean up and change, and tells Yamaguchi as much.

**To: Yamaguchi Tadashi**

_ I'm going to take a shower. Let yourself in, the door’s unlocked.  _

~~~~

Tsukishima steps out of the bathroom with his sweats slung low on his hips, letting the steam billow out behind him as he takes in the cooler air of the rest of his apartment. 

The reprieve is short-lived. 

Yamaguchi appears seemingly out of nowhere and shoves him into the wall like a thug. 

“What the fuck  _ was  _ that?” the freckled boy asks angrily as he stands on his tiptoes and presses up against  Tsukishima with a murderous look in his eyes. 

If Tsukishima wasn't so confused, he would probably be beyond aroused at the contact, but he was confused. 

Very confused, actually, so instead he asks, “What was what?” 

Yamaguchi scoffs as if he's the stupidest person on earth. “The concert, Tsukki, the fucking concert! What the hell were you doing up there?”

Tsukishima feels his stomach drop. 

Yamaguchi understood what he conveyed through his songs. He knows that  Tsukishima wants him. 

Yamaguchi knows that he will stop running, but Yamaguchi doesn’t want  Tsukishima like that. He’s disgusted by his performance . Yamaguchi is angry at him and is going to—. 

The shorter boy's ragged breaths are replaced by a rapidly rising voice punctuated by his freckled hands sliding up the wall to cage  Tsukishima between his arms. “You just stood up there looking… looking like. You looked fucking incredible!” he finally blurts out, looking slightly red from all his floundering. 

Tsukishima’s pulse quickens and his eyebrows raise at the bold statement.

Yamaguchi plows on, “You looked so fucking good up there. You sounded  _ magical _ , Tsukki!” he takes a breath and stares into Tsukishima’s eyes with a fire the blonde didn’t know they could hold. “You looked  _ perfect  _ up there, Tsukki, and I couldn’t fucking touch you.” 

He punctuates his words with a hand that finds its way to Tsukishima’s cheek, brushing a freckled thumb over the taller man's lips.

The contact hurtles Tsukishima back to reality and he finally realizes what’s happening. 

He really hopes this isn’t a dream he’s having after he falling asleep while standing in the shower, but even if it is, he has to act before the moment is shattered.

With no preamble, Tsukishima splays his hands around Yamaguchi's back and head before forcefully pulling the shorter man's lips towards his own.

The sudden contact causes Yamaguchi to let out a surprised ‘umf,’ but it's quickly forgotten once Tsukishima wraps his fingers into dark hair and slots their mouths together perfectly. 

~~~~

Turns out, Yamaguchi’s been running after him all this time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed! i got this up a little earlier than expected so it might be longer till i update as the next chapter is a little harder for me to think up. 
> 
> as always ur comments and kudos bring me life <333
> 
> thanks again and I hoped you enjoyed
> 
> -napenthusiast
> 
> authors note: updated 2/15/21


	7. Something Real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’m the one, could be the one for you  
> Be playin’ games all the time  
> What the fuck I’m gonna do with someone like you?  
> ‘Cause someone like me is a lost soul  
> But maybe we were too young  
> Too young to feel something real
> 
> -Something Real, blackbear

God, kissing Yamaguchi is Tsukishima's new favorite thing.

Ever since the night of the concert, he and Yamaguchi have had consistent makeout sessions after dates. 

Pressed up against Tsukishima's truck door as they say goodbye after a cheap movie in the dark parking garage. 

In the stairwell of Yamaguchi's apartment complex before Tsukishima has to leave for the recording studio. 

In front of Tsukishima's door after Yamaguchi walked him home from the ramen place down the street. 

They never go further than making out. There's the occasional hand sliding up a shirt to caress the soft skin of shoulder blades, but nothing more. 

Tsukishima is more than fine with this arrangement. The way Yamaguchi kisses him like he’s the answer to everything is so perfect that he could live off searing kisses and the smiles that followed them forever. 

Yeah, it's definitely his new favorite thing. 

~~~~

“Tsukki!” Yamaguchi squeals from the bathroom, “You didn't tell me you had a bathtub!”

Tsukishima sighed, scared of the overexcited tone Yamaguchi used. Seriously, how did he still have so much energy after their short-yet-breathtaking (at least for Kei) makeout session?

Regardless, the blonde sighs again and slides himself off of the couch and towards his room where Yamaguchi had gone to use the bathroom. 

“You never asked,” he responds dryly as Yamaguchi stares reverently at the large tub. 

Yamaguchi's wide eyes meet his, “We have to take a bubble bath together.” 

“No,” Tsukishima deadpans.

“TSUUKKIIIIIIII,” Yamaguchi whines, “We have to! C'mon! We can keep our underwear on if you want! Plus, the warm water will be relaxing!” 

Tsukishima blanches at the shorter man's words. 

“C’mon Tsukki, It'll be fun!” 

“Fine,” Tsukishima relents, “but I don't know if the faucet even works, I've never used it.” 

At this, Yamaguchi's smile shifts into something resembling a gaping fish. “You're telling me that you have _this_ bathtub,” he gestures to the shiny white tub with jets and multiple faucets, “and you don't _use_ it?”

Tsukishima stalls, still mulling over the fact that Yamaguchi said they could leave their underwear on, a little confused as to what that was supposed to imply. “Yes, Yamaguchi. That's exactly what I'm telling you.” 

Yamaguchi shakes his head in disbelief as he goes to turn the faucets on, fiddling with the nobs until they finally twist and begin to pour out water. “What am I gonna do with you, Tsukki?” 

“Well, considering that you're so adamant about it, probably take a bath with me.” 

The freckled boy looks away from the drain he just had plugged and faces the tall blonde. He takes two steps until the pair is chest to chest. “You and your snark. Doesn't that get you in trouble sometimes?” 

Tsukishima grins devilishly. “Only when I want it to.” 

“Hmm,” Yamaguchi smiles and leans in closer, so Tsukishima can feel his warm breath on his neck. “Do you have any bubbles?” 

“What?” Tsukishima pulls back from the embrace, unsure of whether he had read the situation wrongly.

The freckled boy steps back and fiddles with the faucets again, adjusting the heat as a blush starts to creep up along his perfect neck. 

“Yamaguchi,” he questions, aiming to resolve whatever tension Yamaguchi was holding in his shoulders, “no, I don't have bubbles. I don't take baths, do you think I take bubble showers or something ridiculous like that?”

The shorter man laughs at the absurd concept before turning his smile back towards Kei. “Tsukki!” he gets out between giggles and gasps for air, “I just wanted to make sure! We can just use soap or something.” 

“That sounds terrible.” 

“It does not! C’mon, It'll be great!” Yamaguchi says as he perches himself on the side of the tub and dips his feet into the slowly rising water. 

“Yamaguchi,” Kei says, unable to shake off or decipher the freckled boy’s words from earlier, “why do you think I would want us to keep our underwear on? It's not a problem if you want to, but…” he trails off, not knowing how to end his sentence. 

Yamaguchi stares at him from the tubside, blushing a little again. “I-I just thought that you didn't really… I- I wasn't sure if you wanted me like that, or something.”

Tsukishima almost laughs at the absurd statement but holds his tongue due to the sincerity and shakiness of the shorter man's voice. 

“It's ok if you don't want to, Tsukki! Really! I like kissing you and if you want I can wear ALL my clothes in the bath if that would make you more comforta-” 

“Yamaguchi,” Tsukishima cuts in before the other man can say any more, “I want you however and whenever you want. I’ll wait for whenever you are ready, even if it's never. And I like kissing you too, but I think I’d also like to do other things with you, but only if you want it. If you don’t, I’m perfectly happy with kissing you and wearing my clothes in the bath… but if we do that I’d prefer not to use soap for bubbles because it might ruin my jeans.”

Kei watches as Yamaguchi clambers away from the bath, following the trail of wet footprints the shorter man leaves on his white tiles until Yamaguchi grips his threadbare t-shirt in his delicate hands and pulls the pair chest to chest once again. 

“ _Tsukki_ ,” Yamaguchi breathes out in a whisper, “Do you really mean it?” 

Tsukishima thinks that the freckles spattering the shorter man's face are nothing compared to the minuscule flecks of gold in his deep brown eyes. 

“Yes,” Kei says as he leans his forehead against Yamaguchi’s, never looking away from the newfound constellations in his eyes. “Whatever you want.” 

Yamaguchi's hands tighten their grip on Tsukishima's T-shirt at the sincerity of his words. He slowly turns his head to the side, cheek brushing against Tsukishima's own as he flattens his palms against Tsukishima's chest. 

“I want _you_ , Tsukki. I want to take a bath with you—naked, if that’s ok—so you don't have to ruin your jeans—and,” he takes a deep breath and Tsukishima feels as his chest rises and falls against his own, “ I just—I want you. Please?”

Tsukishima lets his hands slide up from where they had been resting on delicate hip bones to pale, freckled cheeks, turning Yamaguchi's head so he can look into his eyes, making sure that he meant what he said and wasn’t just blurting things out because he thought that it was what Kei wanted. 

When he finds no halfheartedness or lies on the freckled face, he leans into Tadashi, letting out a soft, ‘yes’, before slotting their lips together and letting his enthusiastic kiss speak for itself.

Clothes were then strewn haphazardly across the tiled floor at an alarming rate. 

Tsukishima whines (even if he would never admit to such a thing) when Yamaguchi pulls away from his lips and smiles, bright and lusty, before saying something ridiculous that should _not_ send shivers up Kei’s spine.

“Bubbles?” 

The pair is standing in nothing but their underwear, water rumbling into the tub behind them, dicks already starting to get hard, and Yamaguchi had just asked about fucking _bubbles_.

Tsukishima sighs but smiles regardless, taking his hands reluctantly away from where they had tangled into Yamaguchi's half up half down hair and goes to search his cabinets for some sort of soap that could work as bubbles.

Once he finds some, Yamaguchi makes quick work of pouring in the soap and watching as it mixes with the water to make mountains of bubbles on top of the rapidly rising bath, turning his neck to smile devilishly at Tsukishima who had been caught not so subtly staring at Yamaguchi's ass while he bent over the tub. 

~~~~

Tsukishima feels like his soul had just left his body via his dick. 

Upon catching the blonde staring at his boxer brief clad ass, Yamaguchi saunters up to Tsukishima and catches him in a searing kiss. 

Tsukishima sighs pleasantly into it and lets his hands roam freely up against the soft skin of Yamaguchi's back, sliding over razor-sharp shoulder blades and resting them on the dimples in his lower back. He lets his long fingers fiddle with the waistband of the other’s underwear.

Yamaguchi lets out a soft moan at his actions and then pulls Tsukishima toward the side of the now full and bubbly tub.

“Can I?” the freckled man asks shyly as he fiddles with the waistband of Tsukishima's underwear.

The endearing and kind action makes Tsukishima speechless, so he finds himself nodding at the shorter man, shifting his body so the shorter can help maneuver his underwear off. 

He kisses Yamaguchi slowly as he grips at his thin hips, silently questioning with his hands if he can remove the other man's underwear. 

“Yes, Tsukki. _Please_ ,” Yamaguchi mumbles into the kiss, grinding his clothed erection against Tsukishima's bare one, making them both moan at the contact. 

Tsukishima fumbles to peel Yamaguchi's boxer briefs off, grasping the other’s newly exposed ass in his hands, blushing to himself at the satisfaction as he finds that it fits perfectly in his hands. 

Yamaguchi whines into Tsukishima's mouth as he steps out of his underwear, pulling his lips away and smiling. 

“Bath time?” he asks so innocently, yet so _not_ , and motions toward the tub.

Tsukishima sighs but holds his tongue, and steps into the bath, his body shivering a little at the sensation of the warm water and bubbles. 

He lets his back slide down the side of the wall and into the large tub, landing in a sitting position. He shoots a look at Yamaguchi, who’s just standing there—looking angelic, mind you—and motions for him to join him in the water. 

Tsukishima's actions seem to shake him out of whatever trance he was in, and he clambers into the tub after his taller, blonder, counterpart. 

The tub is so big that they can sit on opposite sides and barely even touch, regardless of how tall they both are. But where's the fun in that? 

Yamaguchi lets himself sink into the water in front of Tsukishima and immediately reinstigates the searing kiss that they were sharing outside of the tub. 

When Tsukishima feels Yamaguchi's legs slot over his in a straddle he can’t help but throw his head back and let out a low moan. The feeling of their hard cocks sliding up against each other was something he had thought about entirely too much. 

“ _Tsukki_ ,” Yamaguchi whines out between circling his hips into Tsukishima’s and biting at his pale, blemishless neck. “Tsukki-can I- _ah fuck ah-_ can I blow you?”

The breathless words of arousal go straight to Tsukishima's dick, but he has to make sure Tadashi is also on board, regardless of his own hard-on. 

“Yamaguchi, are you sure? You don't hav-”

His questioning is cut off as Yamaguchi slows his thrusts down and slides his hands into Tsukishima's hair to bring them eye to eye. “I know, Tsukki. I know I don't have to-I want to. I want it _-ah-_ please.” 

Tsukishima doesn’t think he can deny him even if he wants to. The way Yamaguchi's eyes blaze with arousal makes Tsukishima want to do anything and everything the smaller man asks. 

Unable to form words at this point, Tsukishima just nods and pulls Yamaguchi into another deep kiss.

Yamaguchi slides his hands from Tsukishima's hair to his hips, gently pushing the blonde up until he sits on the side of the bath, his back flush against the wall and legs caging Yamaguchi in where he sits kneeling in the bathwater. 

Tsukishima's heart almost stops at the tiny, shy smile Yamaguchi shoots up at him before nipping at the pale inside of his thighs, pointedly ignoring his dick. 

The blonde thinks that the nibbling and licks on his thighs are fantastic; Yamaguchi's lips mixed with the warm bath water an amazing sensation. 

Regardless of how skilled Tsukishima thought Yamaguchi was with his mouth, once he licks a stripe up his shaft and presses a kiss to his head without breaking eye contact, Tsukishima is instantly ready to email the blowjob gods and ask why and how Yamaguchi is so incredibly good at this. 

It was only an embarrassing amount of time later that the bobs of Yamaguchi’s head lead Tsukishima to feel his orgasm building up to a climax. 

“Yamaguchi- Fuck, I’m- I’m going to cum,” he pants out as the dark-haired man continues to circle his tongue around the head of his cock. 

One of Yamaguchi's hands clenches onto a pale thigh at Tsukishima's words.

Instead of deterring him and causing him to take his mouth away as Tsukishima had intended, Yamaguchi speeds up his deepthroating, locking his eyes with Kei’s as he hums around his dick, encouraging him to come in his mouth. 

“Ah. Fuck. _Tadashi_ ,” Tsukishima cries out as he feels his stomach contract with a heat that fills him to the core. 

He lets his head fall back onto the wall, shuddering at the clack of his skull and the orgasm that wracks through his body. 

Yamaguchi keeps bobbing his head through the entire thing, letting Tsukishima ride out the very last of his ecstasy before popping off his dick and swallowing obscenely. 

He lifts a freckled hand to wipe off the tiniest bit of cum that had dribbled down the corner of his mouth and licks it off. 

Tsukishima watches him with reverence, taking in the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he swallows, displacing and shuffling freckles on his neck as it goes. 

The blonde slowly slides himself back down into the bubbly water of the tub, pulling Yamaguchi close to him and sliding his arms around the other’s neck before slotting their lips together in a sloppy kiss. 

“Want me to get you now?” Tsukishima asks breathlessly once he pulls back as he tries (unsuccessfully) to regain a normal breathing pattern.

“No,” Yamaguchi smiles devilishly as he leans his hips into Kei’s, “I took care of myself when I was blowing you.”

Tsukishima feels their soft cocks brush together as Tadashi settles himself into his lap. 

The feeling would have caused him to harden once again if he didn’t currently feel like he had just lost his soul through his dick. 

“Tsk,” Tsukishima sighs, “probably for the best, considering I can't feel my bones right now. But next time, I'll definitely return the favor.” 

Yamaguchi beams down at him from where he sits perched on his legs, sliding his strong arms around Tsukishima's pale neck.

“Next time,” he breathes out with a grin that slowly leans down to capture Tsukishima's own. 

~~~~

“What’s this one mean?” Yamaguchi asks quietly as he runs his hands reverently across the geometric black cat tattoo on Tsukishima's bicep.

After their… _activities_ , the freckled boy had slotted himself on top of Kei’s lap to try and dunk him into the ‘spunky’ water, which turned into a tattoo tour after they had a water tryst that they both eventually called for a truce on. 

Kei likes looking up at Yamaguchi from where he leans against the back of the bath, taking in the way his freckles melt down his face onto his chest and condense at his sternum like they had pooled there and forgot to spread back out again. 

Tsukishima sighs as he shakes himself from his daydream of sentient freckles, nervous to explain this particular tattoo, even if he needs to.

“It-It was for Kuroo. Kuroo Tetsurou, my ex.”

Yamaguchi's eyes widen a little at the statement, immediately blurting out apologies.

Tsukishima stops him before he can go into a “sorry sorry sorry” frenzy, and grabs flailing hands that are making apologetic gestures with his own, bringing them back down to his chest. 

“It's ok, Yamaguchi, really. You should know about it. But we’re on good terms now—me and Kuroo—even if all my shitty break-up songs used to be about him,” Kei laughs lightly at the words, remembering how bitter and full of spite he had been back then. 

Yamaguchi smiles, a little reserved about the topic, considering that they were sitting naked together in a bathtub talking about Kei’s ex-boyfriend, but he smiles nonetheless. 

“I-” Tsukishima doesn’t know how much he wants to tell Yamaguchi, but eventually he decides that he should just be upfront about his past, all of it, the good and the bad because Yamaguchi deserves to know the truth and make his own choice about whether he still wanted Kei, even with all his baggage.

“I was living in New York. Um, I was rooming with a few other people in a small apartment, and I-I was a dealer—of drugs—I mean. Weed, coke, ecstasy, pills, basically anything that would get you fucked. I was with a band and some other musicians lived in my building. We played shows but didn't get paid enough to get by with just that, so I ran drugs. It wasn't something I was particularly passionate about-”

Yamaguchi laughs lightly at the grimace Tsukishima unknowingly has on his face before signaling to continue his story. 

Tsukishima smiles, letting his hands rub up and down along Yamaguchi's back as he takes a trip down memory lane.

“I didn't love being a dealer, obviously, but it made good money and it was better than working a day job because then I had time to practice with the band and by myself. I met Kuroo at a bar we were playing at. He had come to see our show and… well he complimented my uh- my fingering skills on the guitar, which was a fucking stupid line, by the way, and we um, we just hit it off, let's leave it at that.” 

Tsukishima pauses to look up at Yamaguchi's face, checking for signs of discomfort or signals that he should stop talking, but all he finds is galaxy eyes gazing intently into his own, understanding and ready to listen. 

He took a deep breath and dove back in. “Kuroo was studying chemistry at Cornell. I always made fun of him for being a nerd. I was still trying to make it big in the music industry, but we hooked up casually a few times before things got more serious. He started coming to all my shows—like a fucking groupie or something—and we spent a lot of time together. He was always there for me when I showed up at his place, shitfaced or tweaking—even though I knew he hated it when I was drunk or high. He took care of me, regardless of the even shittier attitude I had back then. He tried to get me to take classes at a community college or something, but I always told him to fuck off because the music thing had to pan out for me—it just had to, I wouldn’t let myself have a backup plan because I had to make it.” 

Tsukishima lets out a huff, a bitter taste in his mouth at the thought of his old habits and attitude. He had been relentless, only focused on the drugs and music, never appreciating the other things he had. 

“Obviously I'm glad that I dedicated myself to my music. It got me here, to where I wanted to be, but I regret lots of things I did back then. Just as record labels were starting to talk with me, Kuroo found out that I was running drugs. He knew I used—honestly I was high so much I think anyone with eyes knew I used—but he didn't know I made deals on street corners and at parties. He was furious, rightfully so—I was practically living with him when I wasn't dealing or at shows—and he deserved to know that I could have easily ended up in jail, or worse.”

It’s Yamaguchi's turn to let out a short breath, a little gasp, before shaking his head, causing water droplets to rain on them as he presses his hands on Tsukishima's chest, signaling for him to continue. 

“It was ironic, because I had just gotten this tattoo for him when one of the first labels contacted me, and he got a small dinosaur skeleton for me on his pec. At least they weren't matching, or like, each other's names (Kei shuddered at the thought). Anyways, we fought about the dealing, about the music, about the school—about everything, honestly. And I left. I left for two months on a short tour without telling him and never answered his calls. I was such a dick back then, Jesus.” 

He combs his hand through his hair, smiling gratefully at Yamaguchi for listening and not running out of the bathroom like he was a lunatic that wasn't worth his time. 

“I've toned it down since then, I don't drink or smoke as much as I did back then, and I'm obviously not dealing drugs anymore. Karasuno Records offered me a job here and I took it. I left my past there behind and never really looked back. Well… I did visit Kuroo a few times... but we basically just hate fucked and fought before I caught a flight back here. Eventually, we agreed that we had to stop and that we could be friends, but nothing more. He has a fiance now—his name is Kenma. They met at some 24-hour coffee shop at like three in the morning. Kuroo accidentally spilled coffee on Kenmas graphic design work, and now they're engaged. I'm really happy for them.” 

“I'm glad too, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi says quietly, “I'm glad you're comfortable enough to tell me all this. And... if it's worth anything,” he smiled sheepishly, like his opinion was worth nothing instead of the millions Tsukishima found it to be, “I’m glad you're here right now, and not in New York.”

Tsukishima smiles back, trying to convey that the freckled man's words mean everything to him, “I think we were just too young to feel something real. And I think I'm okay with that. At least I am now, even if back then it drove me mad.”

Yamaguchi leans into Tsukishima, the water sloshing a little as he slots his hands over the blonde's neck in a hug, letting his head fall onto Kei’s shoulder, “I think I'm a little okay with it too. I'm glad Kuroo is happy, and I hope you're happy now too, Tsukki.”

A few months ago, that might have been a difficult question to answer, but now, with the dwindling bubbles and pruney skin, the answer is easy to let out. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I'm really happy right now, Tadashi.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise! im back... perhaps its been months since ive updated this but.... alas. sorry and all that jazz for the unexpected hiatus. but shit happens ig.
> 
> anyway, this chapter is done now (completely unedited sorry) and i just wanted to post it bc i missed writing this fic.
> 
> also- the long-awaited smut happened- i personally think im not v good at writing smut so i apologize 
> 
> thats all i think- thanks for reading and again- sorry for the long ass break, hopefully, the next update will be more timely. 
> 
> enjoy !!!
> 
> authors note: updated 2/14/21


	8. Gorgeous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did you know you’re on fire?  
> Did you know that you’re beautiful?  
> Did you know that you got me fucked up?  
> Did you know that you’re gorgeous?
> 
> \- Gorgeous, Mansionz

Tsukishima hasn’t done this before. 

He'd never been… well, he's never been so hopelessly in love with someone before. 

Kuroo was something reckless, and he's not even sure if he could call what they had love— now that he knows the way he feels when he's around Yamaguchi. 

It's a truly odd sensation. Not unpleasant, of course, but odd nonetheless. 

Sure, Tsukishima has had lots of sex. Probably obscene amounts of sex to the more judgemental people in the world, but it had never felt like this.

First of all, Tsukishima is approximately 97 percent sure that Yamaguchi is some sort of sex god sent up from hell to fuck with him (literally). 

Because honestly, how can someone with such an endearing smile, someone who consistently trips over the shoelaces of his cherry-red converse, be so fuckin  _ sexy _ ?

Obviously, Tsukishima isn’t in love with Yamaguchi because of the mind-blowing sex. He was probably (definitely) in love with him even before their first kiss.

It has been almost six months since he had met an awkward and gorgeously stuttering Yamaguchi at the recording studio's warehouse.

Almost six months since Tsukishima had taken in a plethora of freckles on pale skin and found himself wanting to learn more. 

Tsukishima shakes himself out of fuckin reminiscing whatever Candyland he’d found himself in and instead tries to steer his mind to the problem at hand.

Tsukishima has never done this before. 

‘This’, aside from the love thing, would be defined as the fact that Tsukishima has never actually taken someone out on a date before. 

Okay yes, he has gone out with Yamaguchi plenty of times before. 

He’d paid for their dinner before. He had held the door open for the shorter man like a true gentleman. He had kissed Yamaguchi goodnight when dropping him off at his front door before driving home listening to soft rock while trying to withhold a smile from his face.

But neither of them had ever called whatever they had been doing a  _ date _ .

Even if they were  _ technically  _ dates, Tsukishima's usual overthinking made him want to be sure that they have a true,  _ real  _ date because he wants Yamaguchi to know that he enjoys being around him. 

He needs Yamaguchi to know, or at least have the smallest idea, that Kei loves him.

And because Tsukishima knows he isn’t ready to say it yet, so scared of those three little words he’s said fewer times than he can count on two hands, he knows that instead, he has to  _ show  _ the freckled boy.

~~~~

The air conditioner makes a loud humming noise that Tsukishima fixates on as he sits next to Yamaguchi on his couch. 

The shorter had appeared at his door an hour earlier with a blinding smile and a bag of takeout. 

Tsukishima had let himself return the smile before letting him in and stumbling to his kitchen draws to find silverware.

They quickly scarfed down the food Yamaguchi had brought over, takeout boxes now scattered on the table to be dealt with at a later hour. 

While the meal had been fine, Yamaguchi telling stories from today’s photoshoot between slurps of noodles, now that they were done eating, Tsukishima needs to ask Yamaguchi out. 

He had decided this morning that today he would not pussy out. That today he would just ask Yamaguchi, straight up, if he wanted to go on a date with him. 

If the freckled man says no, well... then Tsukishima will probably write a new album about a broken heart or something. 

Hopefully, for the sake of his fans at least, who have enough sad albums from him to last a lifetime, Yamaguchi will take him up on his offer. 

Tsukishima steels his nerves and just goes for it. “Will you… Would you like to go out with me on Friday? Like, on a date?”

Before he can say some kind of disclaimer about how ‘even though it might not  _ really be  _ their first date’ and all that jazz, Yamaguchi cuts off his spiraling thoughts.

“Tsukki! Yes! Yes! Tsukki! I would love to go on a date with you! I would probably love to go anywhere with you. Except maybe the freezer isles in grocery stores - those are really cold. But now that I have you, I can send you, my valiant knight, into the freezing depths of doom to acquire my rocky road ice cream!”

Tsukisima finds himself trying to contain a deep laugh, “I’ll pick you up at seven, then?” he gets out before a short giggle escapes, his resolve to remain serious easily crumbling.

“Perfect,” Yamaguchi breathes into Tsukishima’s cheek, before claiming the blonde’s mouth with his own.

The kiss is a bit messy because of the soft smiles that neither of them can seem to shake. 

~~~~

Tsukishima picks up Yamaguchi from his apartment at seven sharp.

When the door swings open, Tsukishima gets to take in the gorgeous sight that is Yamaguchi dressed for a date before he leans down to greet him with a short peck on the lips.

Yamaguchi has outdone himself, his hair pulled half up with an ornate clip, stray bangs escaping its confines to frame his face perfectly. His silky pale pink dress shirt is rolled up to his elbows, causing Tsukishima’s eyes to be drawn to delicate wrists and strong forearms. His gaze slowly made its way down to Yamaguchi’s body to grow unknowingly wide at the shorter man’s sinfully tight black slacks. 

After pulling away from the chaste welcoming kiss, Tsukishima finds his ability to speak again, “You look fantastic.”

“Thanks, Tsukki! You too!” 

Tsukisima feels that his black jeans and wrinkled white button-up doesn’t really constitute such a compliment, especially coming from someone so exquisite-looking, but he smiles and takes Yamaguchi’s hand nonetheless. 

“Ready to go?” 

“Yup!” 

Tsukishima leads the way out of his apartment complex to his truck in comfortable silence, mostly thinking about how he has the privilege to be spending time with someone as exuberant and kind as Yamaguchi Tadashi.

They reach the car and Tsukishima opens Yamaguchi’s door for him, lending him a hand to get into the lifted vehicle.

“Such a gentleman, Tsukki!”

Tsukishima can’t help but let out a small smile at Yamaguchi’s amazed tone, as he heads to the driver’s side of the car and hops in.

“What can I say, I know how to show a guy a good time,” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Yamaguchi flips his head toward him as he starts the car, “But you do, Tsukki! Every time we’ve been out together I’ve had an incredible time. I know tonight is going to be great too. Because I’m spending it with you, so it’s bound to be fun!”

Tsukishima is taken aback by the happy sincerity that Yamaguchi has when talking about their time together, a smile finding its way back onto his face. “I enjoy spending time with you too, Yamaguchi,” he says in response to the other’s kind statement.

He takes a breath before admitting his nervousness. “This is the first real date I’ve ever taken someone on,” he says a little bashfully, “so I hope that you enjoy it even though I don’t really know what I’m doing.” 

“You-You’ve never taken someone on a date?” Yamaguchi asks in astonishment.

Tsukishima purses his lips, “Well, no. I-uh-I pretty much just hooked up with people. I’ve never really been with anyone besides Kuroo, and we didn’t do much dating stuff anyway.” 

“TSUKKIII!” Yamaguchi squeals in a joking tone, “I’m taking your first date virginity?!?!”

“Shut up, Yamaguchi,” Tsukishima tries to deadpan, but a laugh escapes his lips so he lets his hand find the volume knob on the dash so music can drown out the sound of Yamaguchi giggling happily in the seat beside him. 

~~~~

After eating a delicious meal, feet constantly brushing against each other under the small booth they sat at, Tsukishima leads Yamaguchi to his truck and revs up the engine.

The restaurant had been quaint and nice, but not too formal. It was only a small step above the many times they had eaten together on their ‘not dates’, but Tsukishima feels like the true part of the date starts now anyway. 

He lets Yamaguchi play some music, something bubbly and mellow drifting through the speakers.

They listen to the soft tunes as Tsukishima drives them away from the city lights. 

Eventually, they find themselves on a barren strip of open road.

Yamaguchi, who had previously been admiring the scenery, lets out a laugh as Tsukishima pulls off of the road and lets the car kick up the dust of the desert terrain that they’re delving into.

“Tsukki? Are you taking me out into the desert to viciously murder me?” 

“Yes, Yamaguchi,” he sighs out sardonically, “that's exactly what I'm going to do.”

“Ya know Tsukki, that's not a very nice thing to do.”

“Well fortunately enough for me, and unfortunately for you, it's common knowledge that I'm not a particularly nice person, Yamaguchi.”

“Well,” Yamaguchi huffs out indignantly, “I beg to differ.”

Tsukishima falters a little bit at that, the unscripted play they had been performing suddenly stripped away. “You think I'm a nice person?” he asks a little too quietly, a little too much like he doesn’t believe it himself. 

Yamaguchi turns to fully face him in the driver's seat, “Yes. Not only do I think it, I know it too.”

Tsukishima feels a blush rise up his neck and onto his face, warmth filling his heart at the kind sincerity of the other boy’s words.

“Thank you, Yamaguchi,” he lets the words tumble out of his mouth as he slows the truck to a stop in the middle of nowhere. 

“Anytime, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi smiles at him softly, the glow of headlights ahead of them tinting his tan skin gold before flickering into darkness as Tsukishima twists his hand to shut off the engine. 

Tsukishima takes a deep, steadying breath before speaking again, “We’re here.”

“Uh-Tsukki. We’re in the middle of nowhere?”

“Yeah,“ he laughs lightly as he starts to make his way out of his seat, “c‘mon, I promise I won’t viciously murder you.”

“That’s exactly what someone who wants to viciously murder me would say!” Yamaguchi laughs out dramatically, but he unlatches his door and slides out of the truck nonetheless. 

Tsukishima steps slowly into Yamaguchi’s personal space as the shorter man steps down from the raised step of the truck. 

“Hi,” Yamaguchi says softly as he tilts his head ever so slightly up towards Tsukishima’s. 

“Hey,” Tsukishima replies back just as quietly while he links their hands together and pulls his date towards the back of the truck. 

In hindsight, Tsukishima can see how this part of the date may resemble what Yamaguchi had so eloquently coined ‘a vicious murder.’

But thankfully, once he rolls up the cover of the back of his truck to reveal a makeshift bed of memory foam, pillows, and sheets in the bed of his truck, he hopes it seems a little less like ‘I want to murder you under the cover of darkness’ and more like ‘Let’s stargaze so I can compare your freckles to constellations’.

A sharp gasp from Yamaguchi pulls Tsukishima back into reality. 

He decides to try and explain himself. “I remember you mentioning how we can never see the stars in the city because of the light pollution, and while there’s obviously still some light pollution because we didn’t drive  _ that  _ far, I think the stars are probably much more visible here…” he trails off, unused to talking so much. 

He stands there awkwardly, hand reaching forward to smooth out a wrinkle in the sheet that must have shifted during the drive out here before his hand is thrown off course when another, slightly smaller one, encapsulates it, tugging him to face its owner. 

“Tsukki,” Yamaguchi drawls out, eyes shining golden in the moonlight like Tsukishima knew they would.

He says nothing else before pulling him tightly into a hug, hands gripping so tightly into Tsukishimas shirt that he has half a thought that it might tear, but quickly decides that he doesn’t give a fuck because Yamaguchi is holding him like this and he never really wants it to stop. 

“Thank you, Tsukki. Thank you for listening. Thank you for everything.” 

Tsukishima furrows his brow, a little confused at the fact that he’s being thanked for listening to Yamaguchi when all he ever really wants to do is hear the other boy’s stories and laugh because they contrast his own silence so perfectly. 

“Of course, Tadashi. I’ll always listen to you.”

~~~~

“It’s beautiful, Tsukki!” Yamaguchi laughs, neck craning toward the sky and eyes scanning the stars while he smiles at nothing but the neverending night sky. 

The pair lie on their backs in comfortable silence and bask in the starlight. 

Yamaguchi points out constellations that Tsukishima doesn't really care about because he’s too preoccupied with staring at his date's freckled side profile. 

Tskishima’s resolve to keep his hands off of Yamaguchi until they make it back to his apartment immediately crumbles and he can't hold back any longer. 

He slides his hands into Yamaguchi's obscenely soft hair and seals their mouths together in a searing kiss. 

He doesn't wait before prodding his tongue against the others' slick lips, smirking to himself as Yamaguchi lets out a happy little sigh that allows  Tsukishima's  tongue to enter his wanting mouth. 

Yamaguchi doesn't seem to mind the sudden change of atmosphere, letting out a satisfied moan as  Tsukishima slots his knees on either side of the freckled boy's thighs, effectively straddling him as he slowly deepens the kiss and rocks their groins together. 

“Mmm, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi breathes out, forehead pressed against Kei’s as the blonde slides his hands under the smaller man's dress shirt, “what if someone sees us?” 

Tsukishima just tugs off his own shirt roughly, pushing Yamaguchi's now bare torso down so he's laying on his back, “Let them,” he growls coldly before reaching up to pull off his own shirt as he continues to roll his ass on Yamaguchi's rapidly hardening dick. 

Logically, he knows no one will bother them this far out in the desert, but based on his question, Yamaguchi doesn't seem to comprehend this. 

Tsukishima hears a sharp intake of breath as he leans down to mouth over Yamaguchi's nipples. 

Whether the sound is because of his bold words or the pleasure that his tongue was inflicting on the pink nubs on his chest, Tsukishima isn't sure. 

“Ah, Tsukki--- _ Hgnnn  _ yesss,” Yamaguchi whines as the blond bites onto a freckled collarbone and grinds his hips down  _ hard _ .

Tsukishima licks at the bruise forming on tan skin and slowly slides his hands down Yamaguchi's chest, toying with the waistband of his pants, silently asking if his hands can continue their journey. 

Yamaguchi pants and pulls Tsukishima into a sloppy kiss with one hand, the other joining his larger ones at his waist, deftly popping his buttons open and flicking down his fly, shimmying out of the garment and his underwear in one swell swoop, much more gracefully than Tsukishima could ever manage. 

He pulls away to free himself from his own constricting jeans, leaving his tight grey briefs on.

The blonde takes his time as he roams his tongue up and across Yamaguchi’s tan torso, his nice shirt freshly disregarded next to them in the truck bed. 

He purposely ignores Tadashi's rapidly hardening dick as he trails calculated wet kisses down the junction between his legs and stomach, tongue smoothing over the smattering of freckles that dust the inside of his quivering thighs.

After planting a final bite mark on the soft flesh of the underside of his thigh, Tsukishima laps at Yamaguchi’s asshole playfully, smirking into smooth skin when Yamaguchi lets out a broken whine and his legs push his ass more into his tongue in surprise and anticipation. 

He takes his time continuing his ministrations, losing himself in the sweet scent of Yamaguchi's coconut body wash and the warm feeling of his tongue slipping in and out of his ass. 

Yamaguchi's moans slowly become slightly muffled and Tsukishima looks up to investigate. 

He's greeted by the beautiful sight of a debauched freckled man flushed red and slightly sweaty, with his arm thrown over his face, bite marks visible from where he tried to quiet himself. 

That won't do. 

“Tsukki, why'd you stop?” Yamaguchi pants out as he catches his breath and squirms at the loss of contact, eyes wide and glassy staring into Tsukishima’s own.

“Move your arm,” he says in a demanding tone, voice low and gravely from arousal, “I want to hear you.” 

Yamaguchi gasps as Tsukishima immediately goes back to eating him out with fervor, quickly adding a finger slicked with saliva and precome.

The thighs around Tsukishima's head shake as he adds another finger and begins to scissor them in and out of the tight muscle, letting his tongue swirl around and prod between them without rhythm. 

Just when Yamaguchi starts babbling about how he needs ‘more, more, more’, Tsukishima crooks his fingers hard against the spot he'd been brushing lightly against the whole time. 

Yamaguchi  _ keens.  _ Tsukishima has to tighten his grip on the other’s thighs, nails biting into his skin, sure to leave marks. 

The freckled boy's back arches impossibly high off the blankets strewn on the truck bed, shoving his ass further into Tsukishima’s face and fingers. 

“Ohhhh my--fuuuckkkk,” Yamaguchi wails out as Tsukishima brings his tongue out of his hole and instead replaces it with another long finger. 

Tsukishima is rock hard from just listening to Yamaguchi's moans and feeling him reverberate and clench around his fingers.

The blond sits up and towers over a freckled chest, slotting his free hand onto a pink nipple and pinching hard.

“God Kei, yesyesyes--ah-oh fuck, yesyes- _ please,  _ ohmygod I’m close.”

Tsukishima grins hungrily, slipping his own dick out of his briefs and slotting in next to Yamaguchi's neglected cock. 

They’re both leaking with precome, making the slide of Tsukishima's large hand slick and pleasurable, causing both of them to let out huffs of contentment.

“Come for me, Tadashi,” he hisses into a flushed ear, picking up the pace of his hand that’s pumping them together, and slams the fingers of his other hand into the smaller man's ass as far as he can reach. 

“FUCK!”

Yamaguchi's hips buck so hard Tsukishima feels his own knees raise off the truck bed as his hand and stomach become splattered with cum. 

Tsukishima continues to pump their cocks together through Yamaguchi's orgasm, quickly bringing himself to his own climax as the smaller man starts to whimper from overstimulation.

Letting his head fall back to the sky and feeling his hand finally slip out from Yamaguchi's ass, he rides out his orgasm, shaking and shuddering until his hips begin to still and he can regain his grip on Yamaguchi's body. 

“Fuck,” they both say in tandem before crumbling, limp and spent, onto the rumpled blankets.

~~~~

Eventually, they slide their underwear back on gingerly, opting to forgo the rest of their clothing, instead just lying next to each other with their legs tangled together for warmth in the rapidly cooling desert air. 

Yamaguchi's flushed face glows softly in the moonlight as he fades in and out of consciousness. 

Tsukishima can feel  the smaller man's  warm breath fanning over  his chest as he cards his large hands through shiny hair that gleams evergreen from the celestial lighting. 

_ Made love like he was  _ _ a martyr _

_ The only thing about flames that bright _

_ Is that they tend to make mine seem darker _

He doesn't even notice that he's singing out loud until Yamaguchi’s breath hitches. 

“Sorry. I'll stop. You can go back to sleep, I'll wake you when we should start heading out.” 

“No,” Yamaguchi sighs breathily, craning his neck so he can look into Tsukishima’s eyes, “keep singing.” 

Tsukishima can’t do anything but comply.

_ And I'm so high, could be the drugs could be the moment _

_ But either way, I can't keep my eyes off of you, oh yeah _

_ Did you know you’re on fire?  _

_ Did you know that you’re beautiful? _

_ Did you know you got me fucked up?  _

_ Did you know that you’re gorgeous? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> mwah,  
> napenthusiast
> 
> authors note: updated 2/14/21


	9. Verbatim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Won't you say what's on your mind?  
> Say what's on your mind verbatim  
> Tell me that you're mine  
> Show me what you're made of  
> Say what's on your mind  
> Say that shit verbatim
> 
> \- Verbatim, blackbear

‘Is the sex mindblowing?’ Suga signs as their waitress sets down the trio's coffee orders onto the table. 

“Thank you,” Dachi says to the nice teen who served them before letting his hands fly into a frenzy at Suga’s statement. 

‘Suga! Why would you ask him that!’

Suga just grins devilishly at Tsukishima who is sat across from the couple where they’re meant to be getting a cuppa at a small cafe near the recording studio, but instead, it’s turned into an interrogation about Tsukishima and Yamaguchi’s relationship and sex life. 

‘I’m not answering that,’ Tsukishima signs before he takes a long sip of his bitter coffee. 

‘You’re no fun,’ Suga retorts as he leans further into Daichi’s side.

Dachi sighs at the pair’s typical argumentative nature and tries to change the subject. ‘So, have you heard about Hinata and Kageyama’s new EP that’s dropping soon?'

‘Yes!’ Suga signs back enthusiastically, almost knocking over his coffee cup, ‘they actually got along civilly long enough to record something worthy of being put out.’ A wistful look graces the ashy blonde’s pretty face. ‘Miracles really do happen!’

Tsukishima’s mind drifts away from the conversation as it centers around a certain redhead/raven-haired duo he considers too rowdy to think about before he’s finished his coffee.

~~~~ 

This morning he had woken up to his arm slung over a freckled back and a faceful of Yamaguchi’s strawberry smelling forest green hair. He had breathed in the scent with a sleepy smile before letting his hand run up and down the spine of his boyfriend’s back, making invisible lines between freckles, mentally connecting the dots. 

Yamaguchi had shifted slightly and soon Tsukishima was looking into his dark, sleep-ridden, eyes, a little blurry because he wasn't wearing his glasses and he was pressed so close that he had to look at him practically cross-eyed.

“Good morning,” Tsukishima said softly as Yamaguchi blinked into existence. 

Yamaguchi snuggled closer into Tsukishima's side and burrowed his head into the crook of the blonde’s neck. Tsukishima could barely hear his mumble of ‘I thought you weren’t a morning person,’ before his freckled head slid under the covers in what Tsukishima thought was an attempt to escape the sun and gain some warmth in the heavy blankets.

When he had felt a lick up the cut of his abs and a soft bite at the waistband of his boxers, he realized that he was wrong, but he sure as hell wasn't going to complain.

“Oh fuck Tadashi, I didn’t think I was either.”

Yamaguchi’s head popped out from under the covers as he brought a hand to his mouth to wipe a small drip of spit from his lips. “Wow! What could have ever changed your mind about that, Tsukki?”

Tsukishima had looked into the freckled man’s beautiful eyes playfully. “Someone once told me that you shouldn’t waste precious sunlight.”

“Huh,” Yamaguchi had responded in a similar joking tone, “and here I was thinking it was because I was gonna give you a good morning blowjob.”

Tsukishima had scoffed indignantly, as Yamaguchi started to kiss his way down his pale chest once again. “That has nothing to do with it,” he had said unconvincingly as his breath started to quicken when Yamaguchi began to mouth at him through his underwear.

“Sureeeee,” Yamaguchi had breathed out as he smirked at Tsukishima's flushed face from below.

~~~~

Tsukishima is torn away from his daydream (probably for the best if he wants to avoid an untimely boner) by Suga’s arm waving in front of his face to capture his attention. 

‘Look Daichi! He’s thinking lovey-dovey things right now! It’s so cute!’

Daichi smiles a little apologetically at Tsukishima because of his boyfriend’s antics before signing back, ‘Yeah, he does seem pretty happy, it is pretty cute.’ 

‘It’s not cute,’ Tsukishima defends uselessly. 

Suga completely ignores him before plowing on, ‘Ah, young love! How romantic, isn’t it Dai?’

‘Ah, come on Suga,’ Daichi signs back sheepishly, glancing at Tsukishima nervously, ‘let’s not use the L-word around Tsukishima, he’s a flight risk.’

Suga sticks his tongue out at his boyfriend but puts his hands down in his lap regardless.

Tsukishima sighs and puts his coffee down. ‘It’s fine. I love him. You might as well just say it.’

The shocked faces of the couple across from him are priceless.

Tsukishima pushes his chair out from under him and stands up, deeming his socialization quota to be reached for today. 

‘The sex is incredible, by the way,’ he signs bluntly before turning on his heels, dropping his empty coffee cup into the trashcan as he slinks out of the cafe.

He has to imagine Suga’s bright eyes and Daichi’s stricken expression as he walks towards his apartment because he doesn’t put in the effort to look back. 

~~~~

Tsukishima has just gotten out of the shower and is toweling his hair dry when he hears the door to his apartment slam shut. Assuming that it’s Yamaguchi, he makes his way into the living room where he hears the telling ‘woomf’ of his freckled lover flinging himself onto the couch. 

He lets the towel rest on his neck, water bleeding into his hole-riddled t-shirt, and takes in the dreary sight before him. 

Yamaguchi had indeed flung himself face-first onto the couch and is now making some sort of goat bleating sound into one of his rock hard throw pillows. There’s a discarded Goodwill bag sat at the side of the couch that looks out of place in Tsukishima's decidedly modern and expensive apartment. 

“You shop at Goodwill?” Tsukishima asks the goat-man on the couch.

“Yes,” Yamaguchi retorts, stopping his goat mating call only to say this single syllable before plunging his face back into the pillow. 

“You’re a model. An honest to god L.A. model, and you buy your clothes at Goodwill?” Tsukishima shakes his head as he says this, more to himself than anything.

Yamaguchi responds regardless, “It's practical, Tsukki!!! Don’t hate on me when you have to break in your starchy jeans but I get them immediately well worn and soft!” 

Tsukishima ponders this and has to agree that the man on the couch has a point, even if he has once again gone back to screaming into a pillow. “Take me with you, next time you go. I'll look for non-starchy clothes and test your theory.”

“Okay, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi says unenthusiastically before going back to bemoaning sweet nothings into the couch cushions. 

“Yamaguchi,” Tsukishima butts in as the guttural noises begin to reach a new high, “what's on your mind?” he asks nonchalantly as if the wailing man on his couch is doing nothing out of the ordinary. 

Yamaguchi finally rolls over so he can look at the tall blonde, “Tsukki! I don't know what's on my mind. There's like eight billion things going on in my mind right now.”

Tsukishima can't help but crack a small smile at his words before gesturing at Yamaguchi's prone state on his furniture, “Tadashi, what's wrong? And don't say nothing, because the Mongolian throat singing concert you just gave my couch proves otherwise.”

“I don't know, Tsukki!” Yamaguchi gushes, immediately blushing a little at his outburst, but Tsukishima knows that his face shows how he finds the others act a little endearing, regardless of the oddness. If anything, the oddness adds to his endearment. 

Yamaguchi begins to talk after taking a steadying breath, “It's just that—well, I really like being a model but sometimes I see the others and they're all so mature and sophisticated and, like, I just got back from Goodwill with a pair of hot pink sweatpants that I don't even have the confidence to wear anywhere. And I dunno, sometimes I just feel like I'm not cut out to be a model because I think no one is on my side or believes that I can actually keep doing this. Like I'm not cut out to be in L.A... Like I don't fit in here or something.”

“Tadashi. Even when you feel like no one is on your side, I’ll be there. When you think you have nobody to turn to, you're wrong, because you have me.” 

“Kei,” Yamaguchi whispers out reverently, taking a step closer to his blonde counterpart. 

“What I'm trying to say is—I'm trying to tell you that I love you, Tadashi. That I love you and I want you to know that you do fit in. You're a great model, and I think L.A. is lucky to have you. I know this because I’m incredibly lucky to have had the pleasure of knowing you.”

“But… Tsukki…”

“No buts,” Tsukishima says authoritatively and internally cringes at how he sounds like a condescending parent, but he can't let Yamaguchi think that there's anything that can change his mind. “No buts, Tadashi. I love you. I think you're enough, I think you're incredible, I think you're gorgeous. I'll tell you however many times it takes you to understand that all of it's true.”

Tears have begun to brim in the freckled man's eyes and Tsukishima sighs to himself.

“Fuck. Now I've made you cry. That was not my intention, I hope you know that,” he says pathetically, trying to lighten up the conversation.

“I LOVE YOU TOO!” Yamaguchi blurts out, a tear escaping and sliding slowly down his red cheeks. 

“Oh,” Tsukishima says quietly, surprised at the exuberance of his partner's exclamation, “you don't have to, you know.”

Yamaguchi gives him a puzzled look and Tsukishima tries to explain himself. “You don't have to say it back or even love me yet. I know it hasn't been that long and I don't need you to say something you're not ready for or don't mean. I just wanted to inform you that I’m always in your corner, and I don't need anything in return for it, because I love you.” 

“Fuck, Tsukki. You should write love songs or something,” Yamaguchi's hoarse voice lets out as he flings his arms around Tsukishima's slim shoulders and squeezes tightly. 

“I've heard that a few times before, surprisingly enough,” the blonde smiles as he lets his hands rest against the small of Yamaguchi's back, clinging to him tightly in return. 

Yamaguchi pulls away and cradles Tsukishima's chin in his hands, bringing their foreheads together, “In all seriousness, Tsukki,” he says in a more controlled voice than before, “I do love you. I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it, but I do. I mean it. I’m here for you too. I think you’re the bee's-knees, Tsukki, it’s hard to explain how much I love you.” 

“The fact that you just said the words ‘bees-knees’ makes me want to take it back,” Tsukishima mutters, but his hands running up and down Tadashi's back in a soothing manner proves his words to be null.

“No take-backs,” Yamaguchi says as he slowly lets his hands fall from where they framed Tsukishima's chin to wrap around his shoulders and tangle his tan hands into the wispy blonde hair at the nape of his neck.

“Shut up, Yamaguchi,” Tsukishima berates with a laugh as he starts to tip his head toward the freckled face for a kiss.

“Sorry Tsukki,” Tadashi whispers out in a single breath before they come together in a gentle kiss that can only be described as perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayo! 
> 
> very lovey-dovey chapter to warm your hearts. i hope u enjoyed it! it was honestly probs the hardest part for me to write so its a lil short but oh whale.
> 
> anywys, only one more chapter left! its gonna be a sort of epilogue but I'm excited about it (be ready for some kuroken hehe)
> 
> authors note: updated 2/14/21
> 
> drop a comment or kudo if u want to feed my ego and purify my soul ;)
> 
> again, I hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading. 
> 
> much love to all,  
> <33 napenthusiast


	10. Tongue Tied

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I feel my life’s been so tongue-tied  
> I'm trapped outside inside my mind  
> If you feel like that you're tongue-tied  
> Then we’re tongue tied together  
> Can you even hear me now?  
> Tongue tied together
> 
> \- Marshmello, YUNGBLUD & blackbear

“I can't believe we're going to a wedding!” 

“Me neither. Kuroo always waxed poetic about how our twenties are supposed to be our ‘wild years’. I'm surprised he actually popped the question. Kenma must have calmed him down since I've last seen the imbecile rooster head.”

“Jeez, he must have been wild!” Yamaguchi exclaims as they shuffled through the security lines in the airport. 

“Yeah, he had a penchant for exploding things in his apartment because he stole stuff from the chem lab at school to ‘experiment’. I don't know why he was worried about me when he was the one who was probably gonna get arrested,” Tsukishima jokes sardonically. 

“Pfft,” Yamaguchi lets out as they retrieve their luggage and begin to make their way towards the airport exit, “let's hope he doesn’t blow anything up during the ceremony.”

“I wouldn't put it past him.” 

~~~~

“Tsukki! There's a bathtub!”

The pair had just entered their hotel room for the weekend, and Yamaguchi had run directly into the bathroom to relieve himself because he had drunk an entire large iced coffee on the taxi ride here. 

Tsukishima lets out a little laugh and smiles to himself. “Yamaguchi, I’ve already indulged you in multiple bubble baths since our first one. What is it with you and baths?”

“They’re romantic!” he yells, poking his head out from the bathroom door and locking onto where Tskihishima is sitting on the hotel bed next to their luggage. 

Tsukishima stands and approaches Yamaguchi, knowing that his freckled lover wasn't going to drop the topic easily, “I feel like getting the best blowjob of my life isn't a particularly romantic sentiment.”

“I resent that. My blowjobs are very romantic.”

“Yeah yeah, they're alright I guess.” 

“Hey! I recall you saying something about ‘the best blowjob of my life’ but maybe I misheard,” the green-haired boy laughs as he ducks back into the bathroom when he notices Tsukishima coming toward him.

“Maybe you did,” the blonde drawls in return.

“Mmm sure,” he hums back half-heartedly, “I'm running the bath and you're taking one with me.”

Tsukishima leans against the doorframe as he watches Yamaguchi bend over to plug the drain and turn the shower faucet on high. “I think even if I said no, you would find a way to make me.” 

The freckled man cranes his neck to smirk at Tsukishima. “I can be very persuasive.” Tsukishima walks forward to pull Yamaguchi close to him and gives him a chaste kiss. 

“I am well aware of that fact,” he mutters as he lets his hands crawl up his boyfriend's shirt to playfully pinch at his nipples. 

A small gasp leaves Yamaguchi's mouth as he pulls them apart and works to remove both of their shirts at record-breaking speed before slamming their mouths back together. 

The sound of the bathwater cascading into the tub from the showerhead mixes with the short moans the pair exchange as they continue to deepen the kiss and let their hands roam each other's body. 

Yamaguchi's slim fingers fumble with Tsukishima's belt and fly before unceremoniously shoving his pants to the floor, hands sliding over his newly exposed sensitive pale skin. 

The freckled man makes quick work of his own pants and grabs at Tsukishima so they can sloppily make their way into the huge bathtub that graces the side of the room. 

The hot water stings their legs as they stand and keep kissing under the stream of water that's raining from above. 

The kiss quickly turns desperate, hands that were previously leaving featherlight touches starting to grasp for purchase as they start to lose their patience. 

Yamaguchi is the first to pull away, breathing heavily. Tsukishima stares at the way his eyelashes clump together with water. 

“Turn around and put your hands on the wall.” 

“Bossy,” Tsukishima snarks with a soft ‘tsk’, but complies anyway.

“Yeah, but you like it.”

Tsukishima shudders as he hears the water slosh and displaces when Yamaguchi's knees hit the bottom of the tub.

“I never said that-ah  _ fuck _ ,” he whines out as his hands slide up the wall and he braces his forearms on the cold tile as Yamaguchi begins to eat him out with fervor. 

There were no coherent retorts from Tsukishima after that.

~~~~

Later, boneless and dewy from their bath, Tsukishima lies with Yamaguchi on his chest, listening to the shorter man's breathing.

He lets his mind wander. He thinks about how he's going to leave for a cross-country tour after the wedding. He thinks about how while he's going to stay in New York to kick off the East Coast portion of the tour, Yamaguchi will head back to L.A. to work with his agency. 

He feels a pang in his chest when he realizes that he won't get to cuddle and talk and smile with the boy currently residing there during the weeks to come.

As if the smaller man could read his thoughts, Yamaguchi speaks softly from where he's burrowed into Tsukishima's pecs, “I’m gonna miss you, Tsukki.”

“I’ll miss you too,” he responds softly as he pulls the freckled boy closer to his chest.

“Think of me when you're on stage? And call me whenever! Even if it’s late, you night owl, I’ll pick up.” 

“I already think of you whenever I'm on stage. And of course I’ll call you. I like hearing your voice.”

“TSUKKI! You can’t just say nice stuff like that,” Yamaguchi says as a flush rises to his cheeks and he throws up his hands to cover his face, “I have a reputation of being a heartthrob to uphold!”

“As if anyone who's ever met you could believe that you’re anything but a big softie.”

“I’ll have you know,” Tadashi says as he sits up and shoves his pointer finger at Tsukishima's face, “that I can be very mean and hardcore.” 

In an attempt to support his words he folds his arms across his chest grumpily and contorts his face into something resembling a turtle being pet. 

At least that’s what Tsukishima thinks a turtle being pet would look like. He’s never actually seen someone dumb enough to pet one. Actually, he thinks Hinata would probably try to pet a turtle. 

Regardless, Yamaguchi sits in his bed looking so endearingly faux angry and Tsukishima can’t help but fling his gangly body on top of him, smothering his boyfriend with his inked limbs.

He snuggles his face into the junction between Yamaguchi's neck and shoulder, happily breathing in the scent of his boyfriend’s freshly washed hair, twitching slightly when the green strands tickle his nose. 

“I love you.” 

“TSUKIIIIIIII!” 

They let their breathing even out slowly and remain tangled together. Tsukishima falls asleep with a smile on his face when he hears Yamaguchi murmur ‘I love you too’ just as he slips into unconsciousness. 

~~~~

A horrendous screeching noise tears Tsukishima from the bliss of sleep.

He groans and has a sudden urge to bash his head in on the nearest blunt object. He already knows it's too early for this shit. 

“Tsukki,” he hears from somewhere under him as the screeching continues to assault his ears. 

“Mffmp,” is all he gets out before rolling over and shoving his head under a pillow. 

He feels rustling underneath him and then the screeching stops. 

“Tsukki,” he hears again, and he registers that it's Yamaguchi's voice calling to him and that the screeching must have been an alarm that he just switched off.

Instead of granting his boyfriend with a coherent response, he groans in despair into his pillow.

“Wow. What happened to the little ray of sunshine Tsukishima that I know and love? Where'd he go?” Yamaguchi says jokingly as he pokes at the blonde's naked side and begins to tickle his ribs. 

Squirming at the cold hands prodding him, Tsukishima rolls over again so he can take a breath. “Tadashi, s’not nice, stop,” he whines unintelligibly as he tries to burrow deeper into the blankets so he can escape from Yamaguchi's hands. 

“Nah, not gonna stop,” Yamaguchi smirks as he dives under the covers to continue tickling Tsukishima's retreating form. “It's time to wake up, Kei!” he sings as he relentlessly lets his fingers roam all over Tsukishima's sleep-riddled torso. 

They end up tumbling onto the floor when Tsukishima flails aimlessly in a failed attempt at escaping the tickle assault.

Yamaguchi kisses him on the nose as they lay crumpled together on the ground.

“Let's get ready for the big day!”

“I crave death,” is the dismal response from his grumpy blonde.

“That's the spirit, Tsukki!”

~~~~

Tsukishima grimaces at the bright tone Yamaguchi exudes as he yells at Tsukishima from outside the bathroom where he’s brushing his teeth. 

“C’mon Tsuki! We can't be late for your bestie’s wedding! You're like, a special guest or whatever.” 

“First of all, never refer to him as my ‘bestie’,” he grunts around his foamy toothbrush before continuing, “and I'm the ex-boyfriend. I feel like that's very different from a ‘special guest’.

“Oh c’mon, you're his  _ friend _ , not just his ex. Plus, Kenma is chill with you, so we can't be late!” 

Tskishima can hear his lover’s laugh from where he assumes the freckled man is getting dressed near the bed. 

He smiles to himself but doesn’t let it seep into his voice. “Ugh. Don't remind me that I'm friends with him, it makes me regret my life choices.”

Completely disregarding his boyfriend's snark, Yamaguchi continues to talk excitedly. “Chop chop! Wedding time, Tsukki!”

Tsukishima sighs and puts away his toothbrush, bracing himself for the day before he steps out of the bathroom to join Yamaguchi in getting dressed. 

Kei feels his breath leave his lungs all at once. 

Yamaguchi is already ready for the day and Tskushima feels particularly naked in his boxers and t-shirt next to his  _ literal  _ model boyfriend. 

Yamaguchi, simply put, looks stunning in his dark green vest and pant set. His hair is pulled out of his face with a small ornate emerald clip, but a few unruly bangs escape their confines and flop endearingly into his eyes.

Tsukishima finds it difficult to tear his eyes away from the other man's delicate forearms that are so perfectly on display due to the crisp rolled-up sleeves of his white dress shirt. When he does manage to rip his eyes away from them, Tskishima questions his ability to make it through the wedding without having to drag Yamaguchi away into a locked room because the dark green dress slacks he's wearing fit him so perfectly that he wants to tear them off and never let him take them off all at once. 

“You look fantastic,” he stumbles out after a too-long moment of just staring and standing stock-still like a statue. 

Yamaguchi looks up from where he's tapping away at his phone in surprise, “Oh! Thanks, Tsukki!” His smile is blinding and Tskuishima can help but think that it's the most beautiful accessory the other man has ever been adorned with. 

The wedding really has him feeling all sappy and lovesick, doesn't it?

“You should get dressed too,” Yamaguchi says as he gestures to Tsukishima's pressed suit that he had laid out on the bed for him. 

He's completely oblivious to the blonde’s internal dilemma about being absolutely smitten as he continues speaking and starts to tap at his phone again. “I know you think that Kuroo is a dweeb, but I also know that you don't  _ actually  _ want to be late to his wedding!”

Tsukishima just shakes his head in amusement before reaching for his light grey suit. “You're right, Tadashi.”

~~~~

The wedding is magical. 

Regardless of how adamant Tsukishima is about poking fun at Kuroo, he has to admit that the couple's vows are starting to make him feel a little misty-eyed. 

But that's beside the point. 

Instead, he focuses on the fact that Kuroo cries about ten times while Kenma waxes poetic about how much the bedheaded man means to him.

Kenma pulls a sour face every time Kuroo’s eyes brim with tears but he plows along with his speech nonetheless. Yamaguchi laughs deeply every single time and Tsukishima is helpless to do anything but join him. 

Later, after the pair kisses and the union of the two men is complete, Kuroo drags Kenma out onto the dancefloor for their first dance together as a married couple. The rooster-head parades his smaller lover around with a blinding smile on his face the entire time, winking at him and Yamaguchi when he passes by as he lifts Kenma in a particularly ambitious spin.

Tsukishima can see the glint of happiness and a subdued smile that resides on Kenmas face as he lets Kuroo lead him around the room.

He's happy for them. 

He’s happy for himself too. Tsukishima slips his hand into Tadashi’s and for once he doesn't feel the need to figure out if he deserves to let the smile that graces his face stay there. 

~~~~

The kiss Yamaguchi gives him when they cross the threshold into their hotel room leaves Tsukishima tongue-tied.

“Fuck, I’ve waited all day for this,” the freckled man says as he tugs at Tsukishimas suit with frantic hands.

“Yamaguchi-” Tsukishima gets out out a moan before the other man recaptures his lips with his own and shoves his hands roughly into his hair, skewing the strands from where they had been meticulously gelled back. 

“Tsukki you don't  _ understand _ ,” he whines as he detaches their lips and starts to mouth at the blonde's pale neck, “you look  _ so  _ good in this suit and all I can think about when you're in it is how much I want to get you  _ out  _ of it!” 

So  _ that's  _ what Yamaguchi's foot slowly rubbing up and down his shin under the table had meant? Now that he thinks about it, Yamaguchi's confession makes said man's action of resting his hand on Tsukishima's thigh and rubbing his thumb over the seam of his slacks much more understandable. 

“Oh,” he responds eloquently, mind whirring over the fact that Yamaguchi and he have similar feelings about each other in formal attire. 

“Yeah,  _ oh _ ,” Yamaguchi mutters brazenly as he works his hands to unknot Tsukishima's skinny black tie. 

He pulls back in triumph when the silky fabric slides off the blonde's neck and he starts to run the piece of clothing coyly through freckled fingers. 

“Think we should put this to good use tonight?” Yamaguchi questions teasingly as he gestures to the tie with his chin.

Tsukishima lets out a breath that he didn't know he was holding, “Fuck, Tadashi,” he whispers as he stares at the way the other man’s long fingers create expert knots with the tie idly as he awaits an answer.

Finally, after spending too-long a moment wondering where and how Yamaguchi learned to tie someone up so effortlessly, Tsukishima shakes his head and tries to regain some of his footing in the conversation. 

“What am I going to do with you?” he asks jokingly as he starts to move in for a kiss.

“No, no, no, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi responds, and the nickname goes straight to Tsukishima’s dick as it rolls off the freckled man's tongue in a low and demanding tone. 

The shorter of the two suddenly grabs Tsukishima by the wrists and pulls him a few steps into the hotel room, shoving the tall blonde onto the freshly made bed. 

Yamaguchi smirks, honest to god  _ smirks _ , at the surprised ‘Umpf’ the singer makes when he falls onto the mattress.

Tsukishima feels his body run hot as Yamaguchi kicks off his dress shoes and clambers onto the bed to hover above him on all fours, tie still in hand.

With a devilish glint in his eyes that causes Tsukishima's stomach to squirm with arousal, the freckled man pins both of Tsukishima's hands above his head and moves to press his lips to the blonde’s ear, breath tickling his cheek as he mouths at the soft skin before speaking in a gravelly voice that Tsukishima will never be able to forget.

“Tonight, my dear Tsukki, is all about what I'm gonna do  _ to you _ .”

Well, fuck. 

Tsukishima feels his body let out an involuntary shiver and distantly hears a whine escape his throat, but he's too caught up in the way that Yamaguchi's hands slide the black tie around his wrists to care. 

The blonde’s hands remain incapacitated as Yamaguchi unbuttons his own dress shirt before working to slowly unbutton Tsukishima’s, moving to kiss every inch of pale skin as he exposes it button by button. 

The pace is torturously slow, but Tsukishima can't find it in himself to ask for his partner to speed up. He also can’t manage to get out a word between the needy whines he's making as his heart rate thrums in his ears, but whatever. 

Finally, fuckin’  _ finally _ , Yamaguchi works to slip off Tsukishimas dress pants and underwear and palms at the blondes already hard and flushed dick.

Tsukishima vaguely registers the whimper he lets out as Yamaguchi ceases touching him, but when he realizes that the freckled man has managed to slip off the rest of his own clothes and is now reaching for their bag where they packed lube and condoms, he feels his body thrum with arousal, his dick getting impossibly harder. 

Yamaguchi crawls back to where Tsukshima lies languidly on the bed and situates himself between the man's pale thighs, bringing one of the blonde’s long legs over his shoulder and nipping playfully at his bony ankle before popping the cap off the lube and pouring a generous amount onto his fingers. 

“Yes?” The freckled man asks and plants kisses along Tsukishima's long calf while he waits for a response. 

Tsukishima nods immediately, “Yes. Yes, Tadashi, yes.”

Yamaguchi’s eyes sear brands into Tsukishima as he slides a finger into him, fighting the initial resistance and pressing deeper until it's fully sheathed. 

Tsuikishima squirms under the stare and he shoves his hips down at the feeling of having something inside him but still craving  _ more _ .

Thankfully, Yamaguchi has no desire to continue his snail’s pace from earlier and he quickly adds more fingers as Tsukishima opens up around them.

Yamaguchi finds his prostate and runs his middle finger across it teasingly a few times, watching Tsukishima gasp and  writhe  in front of him as he attempts to gain his breath.

“Tadashi,  _ now _ . Jesus fucking christ,” the blonde pants as he rolls his hips down onto the freckled man’s fingers, seeking friction that he knew he wasn’t going to get from fingers alone, “I’m ready.  _ Please _ .”

“God, you look so good like this,  _ Tsukki _ ,” the model replies in a deep tone, the nickname usually reserved for casual conversation feeling particularly filthy when he says it from where he towers above the blonde. 

Tsukishima relishes in the way Yamaguchi slides into him slowly, blinking his eyes open from when he threw his head back in pleasure and finds himself cast in a dark shadow as Yamaguchi hovers above him while he waits for Tsukishima to get used to the stretch. 

His dark hair has completely escaped its clip and now hangs loosely above Tsukishima as he takes in Yamaguchi's desperate stare and posture. He takes a few breaths and focuses on the way Yamaguchi obscures the hallway light so his gorgeous lithe body is being haloed by the soft fluorescent glow. 

Feeling more than comfortable and wanting to inform Yamaguchi of that fact, Tsukishima shoves his hips upwards and lets them roll down as he throws his head back with a moan, allowing the sensation to consume him. 

“Oh fuck,” Yamaguchi moans under his breath as he begins to move, pulling out completely and thrusting back into Tsukishima with so much force that his knotted hands slam into the headboard.

The blonde uses the newfound surface to brace himself as he thrusts upwards in tandem with Yamaguchi’s downward ones.

The pair finds a quick rhythm and Tsukishima feels himself falling apart impossibly fast. 

The moans he'd been letting out in the form of ‘Ta-da-shi’, soon turn into incoherent whines and gasps as he feels Yamaguchi's hand wrap around his dick and start to jerk him off in time with their thrusts.

“Kei. Kei, Kei, Kei,” Yamaguchi gushes as Tsukishima's hips start to stutter, the previous rhythm forgotten.

The pair comes within seconds of each other, both yelling out breathy iterations of the other’s name.

They share a moment of intense eye contact after they come down from the high, and then Tadashi is bopping Tsukshima on the nose and flopping limblessly on top of him.

~~~~

“I'll need to thank Kuroo for this tidbit of information,” Yamaguchi says as he slides the tie off of Tsukishima's wrists and kisses his slightly red rubbed skin.

Tsukishima goes stock-still, every single muscle in his body tensing, “He did not.”

Yamaguchi smiles evilly before he kisses the tip of Tsukishima's nose, “Oh, but he did,” he retorts wickedly.

Tsukishima runs a hand over his face in regret, “My ex talked to you about my kinks? Are you kidding me? When the fuck did this even happen? where the hell was I?”

“When I went to the bathroom after like, my fifth glass of champagne? Well, he was there,” Yamaguchi explains as he lies his head on Tsukishimas chest, settling in for the night, “and we sparked up a little conversation about a topic we could both relate to—sex! With you!” 

Tsukishima feels his entire body turn a flaming red. “If you wake up tomorrow and there's a news headline that says ‘‘rooster head found dead in a ditch,’ please tell Kenma that I apologize, but it had to be done.” 

“Why can't you just tell him yourself?” Yamaguchi asks with a giggle.

“I wouldn't have time. I’d have to flee the country immediately after my crime of passion. I’m not cut out for prison, Yamaguchi.”

“Ah, but I bet you'd like the handcuffs.” 

Tsukishima shoves Tadashi off the bed. 

“TSUKIIIIIII, I’m kidding!!!”

“Shut up Yamaguchi,” the blonde grumbles, but despite his cold words, he pulls Yamaguchi back onto the bed and under the covers, kissing him on the forehead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyyoooo thank you for reading. drop a comment or kudo if ya vibed with this chap.
> 
> BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY: 
> 
> I just want to give the most enormous thank you to my amazing beta reader seasonal stress. 
> 
> they have legit been so incredible because this fic was a mess and they turned it into a beautiful butterfly. 
> 
> all the previous chapters have been updated after they were edited, so hopefully, anyone who reads the fic from the start didn't have to suffer through the back and forth tenses like some of u who have been here the whole time have.
> 
> anyways again, thank u seasonal stress, I am sending u a million virtual hugs, u da best. 
> 
> \- mwah, <3, napenthusiast


	11. My Beloved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm drowning in my own genius   
> That's what I’d like to think  
> That's the attitude of takin’ on these type of things...  
> Soften all of the places up that were hard   
> Put a couple of my kisses on your birthmarks...  
> Don’t ask the sun to shine more like the moon, baby
> 
> \- My Beloved, Mansionz

Tsukishima has been on tour for a few weeks now and he misses Yamaguchi more than he would like to admit. 

Being on tour has never felt like this. He usually doesn't mind the feeling of being away from L.A., as he never had anything to tie him to the place before. The feeling of traveling across the country to perform used to be appealing and fun. In the past, it was a getaway. Now, it almost feels like a chore. 

Of course, he still enjoys performing. Nothing can take away his love for the adrenaline rush of being on stage, for the feeling of flying when the crowd joins him to sing along with his songs. 

But now it seems like the tour has been going on for just a  _ little  _ too long.

He misses Yamaguchi. He misses the way they coexisted together the month before he left New York. He misses the perfect toothy smiles and the secondhand taste of strawberry chapstick. 

Thankfully enough, Yamaguchi is a relentless texter and caller. He sends Tsukishima random memes and life updates throughout the day. Kei always responds dryly, making him cringe at his lack of texting finesse, but Yamaguchi always sends a smiley face in return, and the messages never stop. 

Today has been a particularly light day of texting, at least by Yamaguchi's normal standards. 

He had an enthusiastic good morning text waiting for him when he woke up, and he responded in turn, but since then, Tsukishima has received nothing more than that. 

Assuming that Yamaguchi is busy and probably working, Tsukishima lets himself get lost in strumming his guitar and works on a few songs he's been writing recently. 

The tour bus he’s living on with a few other crew members is small and cramped, but he doesn't mind. It's not like he needs space due to his lack of personal items, and the others are all relatively quiet and leave him to his own devices most of the time. It’s nice and he likes it, but he can't help but miss a certain someone who always worms his way into his space and clings to him like a piece of lint. 

Oddly enough, he enjoys that piece of lint and has no intention of brushing him off. 

Why the fuck is he comparing his boyfriend to lint?

Tsukishima puts down his guitar before he starts to write a song called ‘lint boy’ or something of equal wretchedness. 

He shudders. What's wrong with him? This sentimental shit is getting to his head. He feels like Bokuto when he smokes pot and then starts crooning on and on about how Akaashi practically shits rainbows or something. 

Since he really doesn't like the thought of himself being anyone remotely similar to Bokuto Koutarou, he decides to shut off his mind and take a nap until the concert soundcheck starts. 

~~~~

Tsukishima checks his phone one last time before he leaves his dressing room to head for the stage. 

It’s a little odd that Yamaguchi hasn't texted him with a good luck wish for his concert, but he supposes that maybe the other man forgot or is just really busy today.

Tsukishima doesn't need constant reassurance or affection by any means, but he still finds himself missing the usual back and forth he and Yamaguchi typically have before one of his concerts. 

As he slinks through the hallway and enters the wings of the stage, he commits himself to calling or video chatting with Yamaguchi tonight after his show so that he can see the freckled man's face and they can catch up for a little. 

The cheers of the audience reach a new high as the opening act thanks them for watching and starts to introduce Tsukishima. 

Shaking his head to rid any thoughts other than giving a great performance and letting the music speak for him, he nods at the crew member giving him the go-ahead and walks forward onto the stage. 

He lets his eyes adjust to the bright lights and waits for a moment until his ears get used to the ringing and static through his earpiece before stepping forward to greet the screaming crowd.

Tsukishima lets his performer persona take over, thanking his fans for coming. He notes some particularly lewd and bedazzled signs held up around the arena and acknowledges a few of the funnier and more ornate ones before the notes of his first song start playing and he lets get lost in his singing.

Tsukishima Kei and Tsukishima the famous singer are two very different people. Tsukishima Kei would never bound across a stage and share his microphone with the front row of his audience as his more iconic lyrics come up. But in contrast, this is exactly the kind of action Tsukishima the singer would do.

He's flipping off the sky alongside his audience as he tilts the microphone toward them and they chant his lyrics with gusto.

_ Roller coaster, up and down _

_ We’re so high, can't see the ground  _

_ Let’s pretend we’re happy now  _

It's at that moment Tsukishima catches a glint of a familiar shade of green in the front row of the audience. 

He blinks to make sure, his brain throwing lyrics out of his mouth on autopilot as his mind hones in on the fact that the green flash of hair he had seen definitely belonged to the man he loves. 

Yamaguchi Tadashi is standing in the front row of his concert, cheering and smiling up at him among the rest of his fans. Tsukishima thinks he sees a familiar blonde bob hopping around next to him and assumes that Yachi had helped him get great tickets and had escorted Yamaguchi into the arena. 

With the roaring and general thrashing of a huge crowd, it's hard to get a solid view of the man below from where Tsukishima stands on the stage, but he knows that Yamaguchi is here, and that's enough to set his body aflame and cause the smile he plasters on during his performances to become entirely genuine.

As the song wraps up and the opening beasts of the next one start to drift through the surrounding speakers, Tsukishima scans the area where he had seen Yamaguchi and starts to speak deeply into his microphone. “This next song is for someone special in the crowd tonight.”

He locks eyes with the freckled man for a brief moment before he gets swept up in the lights and throng of bodies, but the second of eye-contact they shared was enough. 

Yamaguchi knows Kei is singing for him tonight.

The roar of the crowd reaches a decibel he didn't think was possible, but instead of letting it distract him, Tsukishima revels in the way his heart thrums with shared adrenaline with the audience and the way his blood rushes loudly in his head as he thinks about how close he is to Yamaguchi now after what had felt like an eternity apart. 

He starts singing and pours all his emotions into his words, knowing that Tadashi is out there listening.

_ That's the attitude of takin’ on these type of things... _

_ Soften all of the places up that were hard  _

_ Put a couple of my kisses on your birthmarks... _

_ Don’t ask the sun to shine more like the moon, baby _

The song ends and the arena fills with cheers as he continues into the next. Tskishima rides the high of his excitement and happiness for the rest of the concert, sure that he’s singing his heart out and performing better than ever. 

~~~~

He finishes singing the last line of his closing song and the lights shining on the stage go dark. Tsukishima thanks and flees from the crowd quicker than usual, but he doubts anyone would notice. And if they did, who cares? He has someone waiting for him. 

The moment the final beats of the last song pound through the speakers, Tsukishima watches as Yamaguchi steps away from the crowd and heads toward where Tsukshima knows there's a backstage entrance. 

Knowing that Yamaguchi must be somewhere in the backstage maze of hallways, Tsukishima makes his way back towards his dressing room, assuming that that's where Yamaguchi would head first. 

Just as he turns the corner into the hallway of his destination, Tsukishima sees fluorescent light bounce off the green-hair he had seen moments ago in the audience. 

He starts forward at a brisk pace, willing his heart to stop beating so quickly. 

“You're really here,” Tsukishima breathes out as he moves quickly toward Yamaguchi. “Why are you here?” he asks incredulously.

Yamaguchi smiles and starts to walk towards him, but slows a little and shoots Tsukishima a nervous look as he shoves his hands into his pockets. “Should I have not come? I know touring can be busy-”

“Tadashi,” Tskushima cuts in before he can get another word out, finally coming to a stop in front of the other man. “I love you.” 

Yamaguchi takes in a sharp breath as Tskushima wraps his arms around him, engulfing his freckled lover with his sweaty post-concert body with a long hug.

“Heh, I love you too,” Yamaguchi says from where he's buried in the crook of Tsukishima's neck.

Tsukishima pulls back from the hug with a soft blush painting his cheeks. He's unused to showing such blatant signs of affection in public, even if there’s no one in the hallway at the moment. 

“I'm glad you're here, I just hope you're not missing any shows or photoshoots to be here,” Tsukishima says as he watches Yamaguchi tuck a stray strand of hair behind his ear.

“Don't worry, Tsukki,” he responds with a soft smile, ”I had a runway show in the city yesterday and decided to extend my flight until tomorrow. I wish that I could stay longer but I have bookings back in L.A. that I have to get back to.”

Tskishima slides his hand onto a freckled cheek, swiping his thumb across the bow of Yamaguchi's lips. “That's fine. I'm just grateful that you get to be here now.”

The freckled man smiles toothily and presses his cheek against Tskuishima’s outstretched hand in a gesture of appreciation and affection. “Tsukki! How is it that you're so sexy on stage and then so sweet and cuddly backstage?” 

“I'm only sweet and cuddly once a year, the quota has been reached. You'll only get prickly Tsukishima from now on,” the blonde quips as he tilts his forehead against Yamaguchi’s after he quickly scans the hallway for onlookers and finds none.

“I don't believe you,” Yamaguchi says. The tiny laugh that follows brushes warm air against Tskishimas cheeks.

“I don't either,” the singer whispers before he bows his head ever so slightly so that their lips can connect in a slow kiss. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK U FOR READING!!!!
> 
> Ik this chap was p short, but i just wanted to tie up some loose ends (hehe tie up- like tsukki was- get it????) and keep it with a sappy happy love story ending. (and ofc the kuroken wedding had to be written.)
> 
> But now… Its finally done :0 
> 
> I honestly never thought this day would come. I always got sidetracked with school or other things i was working on and this fic had always just kinda been a fun side-gig kinda thing.
> 
> But in the end, i reached out to an amazing beta reader (SHOUTOUT TO SEASONAL STRESS ILY) and they inspired me to polish and finish this fic up. 
> 
> I really hope you guys enjoyed the more ooc takes i took on tsukki and yams, but i listen to a lot of blackbear and idk why but i really love the thought of tsukishima performing some of his songs. Also yams is so pretty hes legit a model i just know he could be one. 
> 
> Anyways, chat with me in the comments or drop a kudo if u enjoyed! I love u all for reading, ur incredible. 
> 
> And once again, thank u seasonal stress!! I am thankful for u beyond words, truly u da best.
> 
> XOXOXO to all!!! 
> 
> napenthusiast

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!! sorry for any inconsistencies or mistakes about the music industry, i honestly don't know more than a quick google search can tell me about it. 
> 
> please let me know if anything about deaf suga is offensive or incorrectly represented. im new to writing fiction, but wanted to have deaf representation nonetheless. either way, i would love feedback, good or bad, about it.
> 
> also, don't do drugs, kids! be smart and safe
> 
> thanks again lovelies
> 
> xoxo napenthusiast ;)


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